Meet and Greet Monday: Pool Time

I realize that at first glance, pool time doesn't seem like something that fits under the "meet and greet" category. But may I refer you to my first "meet and greet" post here, in which I mention that on the last Monday of the month I will introduce you to some of the most important people and things in my life. And pool time falls under that category.
Those of you who know me will probably wonder how pool time could have possibly become something so important to me that I would devote an entire blog post to it. After all, those who know me know that I have not worn a bathing suit in years and don't go near water unless it's to bathe. My fear of water is not completely unfounded, however. It all goes back to a near-drowning experience when I was probably about ten. I won't go into detail; I'll just say I thought I was a goner that fateful day. My brother Chance had to save me, and ever since then I've had a phobia of water. (In all reality, though, I probably was no closer to drowning than I am to winning the lottery.)
But back to the topic at hand. My love of pool time all started when my friends Shawna and Laura and I decided to try out aqua Zumba at the community center. We heard it was a lot of fun and a great workout, so of course, we had to try it out for ourselves. The only problem for me was that I didn't own a bathing suit. "Not to worry," the ever-positive Shawna reassured me. She then reminded me that we each had a Kohl's $10-off coupon and suggested we begin my swimsuit search there.
After trying on several different combinations and sizes of tops and bottoms, I finally found one I thought I could actually appear in public in. In addition, both the top and bottom piece were half off, plus I had the coupon, so I only ended up paying $30 for an $80-bathing suit. I was pretty proud of myself that day.
So I debuted my bathing suit at aqua Zumba...but I wasn't impressed with the workout. I wasn't as sweaty and exhausted as I am after regular Zumba classes, which in my mind meant that aqua Zumba didn't work as well as regular Zumba does. No pain, no gain, right? So I decided I was going to stick to regular Zumba from now on, leaving me with an only-worn-once bathing suit if I didn't get my butt in a pool.
Laura lives in an apartment complex with a pool and had been dying to spend some afternoons poolside, so I finally agreed to accompany her. After all, I did need to get at least get thirty bucks of wear out of the bathing suit. I did warn Laura, though, that I don't so much swim as wade around in the fairly shallow end. That was fine with her because she really just wanted to be in the water to get out of the 112-degree heat we've been experiencing for far too many days.
So in order to beat the heat and justify the purchase of a new bathing suit, I've spent several afternoons poolside with Laura and other friends. And I've been pleasantly surprised. I did not expect to enjoy it this much. I nearly hyperventilate when I approach the five-foot end, but I'm perfectly content to splash around in the three- to four-foot end, talking with friends about any and everything. Take, for instance, the conversation Laura and I had while standing on our knees in three-and-a-half-foot water. It went a little something like this:
Laura: "See, we're only in three-and-a-half-foot water. It's not so bad."
Me: "Wait. How is my head two feet tall?!"
Laura (with a decidedly confused look on her face): "Um...because of your legs. You're not standing all the way up. Right? That makes sense, right?"
Me: "Oh...duh. Wow! I'm an idiot!"
Then we both burst into uncontrollable laughter. Apparently there are always many laughs at the pool, and not just because of men who shouldn't be wearing Speedos.
But anyway, I vowed to spend more time outdoors this summer, and between hammock time and pool time, I've done just that.
And now for some poolside photos:

Photo courtesy of Laura Hawkins

Darker than I've ever been

Perfect book for a relaxing afternoon by the pool

Times, They Are A'Changin'

If you've ever visited my blog, you'll (hopefully) notice that my page has changed. I know what you're all thinking: Finally. And you have good reason to think that. I would like to point out, though, that my computer, for whatever reason, won't let me change the design of my blog, so I had to do it on a friend's computer. I think my page is a lot more Ashley and a lot less boring now. Maybe my new color scheme will make me want to blog more now...

Things are also changing elsewhere. There are so many changes going on at work that I don't even know where to start—people leaving, people moving to different departments, people getting promotions. Just thinking about how different work will be starting in August makes my head spin. But I know things can't stay the same forever, so I am going to try to embrace all these changes and meet new challenges head on.

My home life is changing soon as well. And I mean soon as in tomorrow. My brother Chance is moving in with me. I've gotten several different reactions from people when I tell them this. There are, of course, the people who incredulously ask, "You're going to live with your brother again?" And there are those (mostly ones who know my amazing little brother) who say, "That will be so fun!" And then there are those who ask why. There are several different reasons for this move, so I'll just say Chance needed a change of scenery and I think it will be fun to live with him again, because there are always many laughs when he's around. As I've mentioned before, my brothers and I are more like friends than siblings now, and I don't think living together will do anything but strengthen our already strong relationship. It will definitely be a new adventure for both of us, but this is a change I'm excited about.

I've already told Chance, who is so ridiculously in shape it's both awe inspiring and sickening (for jealous people like me), that he's going to be my personal trainer when he gets here. That's what he eventually wants to do with his life (turn couch potatoes into gym rats), so I figure I'll be the perfect guinea pig, seeing as how an embarrassingly large amount of my time is spent on my couch. It's definitely time for a change.
Some changes I have no control over, and others I eagerly anticipate. But change is happening, and I'm determined to be ready for it, no matter what area of my life it affects.

Tires and Fuses and Horns, Oh My!

It all started with an innocent, relaxing swim. Perhaps I should clarify that by "swim" I mean standing in four-feet-deep water and chatting with my friend Laura. Or perhaps that clarification wasn't necessary because the swimming isn't at all the focus of this story, but oh well.
So after this leisurely swim, I headed home for what I thought would be an equally relaxing shower and evening spent watching my guilty pleasure MTV show "Teen Mom." Don't judge me. MTV shows are train wrecks for me. But I'm getting off track again.
So there I was at the stoplight at 15th and Sara, and when the light turned green, I took off, as people generally do when the light finally changes from red to green. All of a sudden, I heard a noise that immediately told me something was wrong with my car, more specifically, my tire. The only way I can describe the noise is that it sounded like when you put baseball cards in bicycle spokes. My heart sank. I just knew I had a flat tire. I also knew there was no room in my budget for a new tire. Luckily, I was less than a mile from home, so I drove 20 mph, wondering if the people passing me could see my tire shredding with each passing foot of ground I covered.
When I pulled into my garage what seemed like ten tense minutes later (but was actually more like two), I dreaded getting out to assess the damage. A first inspection, however, proved that I did not have a flat tire, as I had first suspected. When I knelt on the ground to find out what had caused the ungodly noise, this is what I found:

I still don't really know what it is, but it was described to me as a screw (nail, maybe?) that is used in construction.

I immediately sent Randel the picture and asked if this large screw-like object stuck in my tire would require me to get a new tire. He said no, that I should just be able to get it patched. I heaved a sigh of relief and did a happy dance.
After work the next day, my friend Shawna went with me to Walmart to get this bad boy patched up and not sounding like a bike with cards in its spokes anymore. The helpful attendant said they could get that done right away, and because he was so helpful, I asked if they could also replace the bulb for my left blinker, which was on its way out. After saying they could, Shawna and I went inside to browse while we waited. About five minutes into our browsing, we heard over the loud speaker: "Ashley Luckett, please come to the tire center to speak with your tire consultant."
"Uh-oh," I told Shawna. "That doesn't sound good."
We made our way back and, to make a long story short, were told that the tire couldn't actually be patched because the large screw-like object had started separating or shredding my tire. Lovely, I thought. I'll need a new tire after all.
The attendant was very nice and looked up the price of the tire at other places, and we found that Discount Tire in Yukon was the cheapest. So they put the spare on, threw the now-useless tire in the trunk, and Shawna and I headed to Yukon. While we waited at Discount Tire, Shawna and I got to talking about how my horn and cigarette lighter didn't work. (I only want the lighter so I can charge my phone on long trips; not because I've recently taken up smoking.) Shawna called her dad to see if he knew what kind of fuses we would need for that. He said to bring the car over and he would take a look at it.
Fifteen minutes and $140 later, we headed to Shawna's house. Her dad found the fuse we needed for the horn located under the hood and the one for the lighter in the trunk (odd). So off we went to O'Reilly. We went in like pros and found the fuses with no problem. After paying, we went outside to pop the trunk and hood. We were going to replace the fuses right then and there. When both were installed (not sure if that's the correct verb, but we'll go with it), I nervously got in the car to see if we had been successful. I plugged in my car charger, and the red light came on! One down. Then I blew the horn.
My first thought was that it had passed gas. Then I decided it sounded sick. I honestly cannot describe the hilarious sound it made. I was embarrassed by my car's bodily noises, so we just took off. Thinking that perhaps my horn just sounded so awful because of months of disuse, I blew the horn again on the way to pick up Shawna's car, and the sound threw us into fits of laughter.
I still haven't figured out what's wrong with it, but I won't be using it anytime soon. Rather than scaring away the driver who creeps into my lane or cuts me off, it will cause him to laugh at my attempts at threatening him.

Fuses: $6
Replacement bulb: $10
New tire: $140
Flatulent horn: priceless

Meet and Greet Monday: Zumba

When my good friend Shawna invited me to join her for a Zumba-thon a little over a year ago, she didn’t know she’d be changing my life.

This Zumba-thon took place at the Mustang Community Center, and we shook our booties for two hours straight. Even though I had done little in the way of exercise for months prior and was exhausted by the end, I loved every minute. The next day I joined the gym and began taking Zumba classes four times a week. Thus began my love affair with the exercise craze known as Zumba.

I had just gotten out of a relationship and needed something besides TV to occupy my time so I wouldn’t sit on my couch all evening, eating ice cream out of the carton and feeling sorry for myself. Zumba was just what I needed. Zumba gives me energy, confidence, and loads of laughs. There are always many laughs when Shawna and I try to outdo each other, do our booty dips when stretching, and, let's be honest, just look at each other. Our hips sure don't lie, so we have a good ol' time every class. When those fun-filled forty-five minutes are up, I’m drenched in sweat, barely able to walk...and want to do it all over again. 

I’ve never been the type of person whose day isn’t complete without hours spent pumping iron or a twenty-mile run. I’m not built for running (I’ll admit it: I run like a girl), and I don’t know how to use the machines at the gym. Zumba, then, is right up my alley. This Latin and hip-hop-based exercise is so much fun that it doesn’t even feel like work. It’s like a dance party. But you really do work…hard. In the classes I take, we work our core by shaking our hips like nobody’s business. Our legs get in on the action too with the salsa, cumbia, and merengue moves we do, along with the occasional killer lunges. And we’ve also been doing Zumba toning in our Tuesday/Thursday class, so our arms get quite the workout as well. I’m not the best hip shaker out there, but it’s so much fun to try. And even if you can’t get the moves down quite right, as long as you’re shakin’ it like a saltshaker, you’re good. 

Although I mentioned that I am by no means a gym rat, I do miss Zumba when I have to skip a few days. I miss the feeling I get when I exercise (that feeling that the calories in the bowl of ice cream I'm about to devour are cancelled out by the calories I burned Zumba-ing), but I also miss the people in my classes. I’ve gotten to know some of my fellow hip-shakers, as well as my instructors, and I love dancing with them every week.

If I get too nostalgic, though, I can always just turn on the radio, because there’s a good chance that one of our hip-hop songs will be on and I can get my Zumba on in the comfort of my own home or car or desk chair. I can't listen to "Like a G6" without at least mentally doing the butterfly, and it's hard to keep from literally droppin' it low in public when I hear "Drop It Low."

Not only do I now exercise four times a week, but I also feel better about myself and am more active in general. I have Shawna and Zumba to thank for my newfound self-confidence and my sweet new dance moves.

Shawna and I about to battle!

Homeownership, Homies, and a Hammock

With summer comes the irresistible urge to decorate, garden, and home improve in general…for me at least. Ever since I bought my house fourteen months ago, endless ideas for raising the value of my home have run through my head. I have considered everything from installing a screen door and marble countertops to adding an actual deck to cover the concrete slab that currently serves as my “porch” and having a Ground Zero storm shelter built in my garage. (The storm shelter is more for my peace of mind than a potential selling point, though.) As quickly as I entertain these fanciful notions, however, I dismiss them, because home improvements and repairs ain’t cheap. Unfortunately, I don’t have thousands of extra dollars hanging around to throw into home-improvement projects.

But I won’t let that deter me from enjoying my home to the fullest this summer (and beyond, of course). While not considered a financial improvement to my home in any way, I plan to finally decorate my house. I hate to admit that I’ve lived in my house for over a year now and have done little in the way of making it homey…as in, “of or relating to a home,” not “homie don't play dat.”

My bathroom, sad to say, is probably the most decorated room in my house, just because it has a semblance of a theme—rugs that match the super-cute shower curtain that gave me fits when putting it up (always many laughs when I battle the shower curtain), along with a trashcan and toothbrush holder to match. Embarrassingly, that’s about the extent of my decorating thus far, and I use that term loosely here, because I realize that putting rugs and a toothbrush holder in my bathroom hardly counts as decorating.

Friends have given me wall decorations that I just need to finally hang up. I plan to hit up Craigslist and garage sales for new (to me) furniture and home decor. And fresh flowers will go a long way in brightening up both the inside and outside of my house. Last week, my lawn guy pulled all the weeds from my front flowerbed and added red mulch that matches my red door. Just like that, my front yard was transformed from an eyesore to a yard I'm not embarrassed to have dog walkers and rowdy children walk through. And now that my backyard is equipped with a new hammock, I will be spending many an evening out of doors with a book in hand and a floppy hat on my head.

This is where the majority of my summer evenings will be spent.

I am determined to embrace homeownership…if a little late. Last summer I was just getting used to the idea of owning my own home and all the responsibilities that go along with it—finding previously mentioned lawn guy, paying deposits on all utilities (which is paying off now; I haven’t had a water or electric bill in two months!), and arranging to fix anything that breaks (including my air conditioner in the middle of July). But now that I’ve got the hang of this homeowner thing, I am anxious to really make my house a home. So bring on the Better Homes and Gardens magazines, re-runs of “Home Improvement” (if for nothing other than to learn what not to do), and any tips and tricks on cheap home upgrades I can get. I plan to make my home as cute and comfy as my budget will allow…starting now.

Stay tuned for my adventures in home improvement!

My Name Is Ashley, and I'm a Shopaholic.

This budgeting thing I've gotten myself into is hard. Very hard. Painfully hard. After a mild setback in the form of a last-minute Homeland trip last week, I vowed to get back on track this week. Wrong. For one thing, my mom stayed with me last weekend so we could go to the KC and the Sunshine Band concert at Frontier City. That meant I had to get into Frontier City, which is a staggering $33. (Okay, maybe it's not so steep, but it seems to be when you've put yourself on a strict budget.) But I, being the super-thrifty chick I am, found coupons online for $8 off, so my admission into the park was only $25, plus tax, of course. I managed to keep my wallet closed for the rest of the day, and the weekend as well, so my tally for the entire weekend was only that measly $25.
*Please don't misunderstand this to mean I didn't want my mom to come stay with me for the weekend. I did want her to. And I always do. This was just one of those unnecessary things I had warned myself to stay away from. But we had a blast, and I don't regret going. 
I guess because I had already spent money I hadn't planned on, it was pretty easy this week to spend a few bucks here and there—four bucks at Sonic, three dollars at Braum's, ten at Target. Obviously, that quickly adds up. As did the $19 I spent on mineral makeup. My best friend sent me an ecstatic text about a great online deal that was being offered, and I couldn't pass it up either. I mean, the value was fifty bucks, so this was a steal, people. You can't fault me for practically stealing awesome makeup, can you? Now Jennifer and I just have to figure out how to apply this fancy makeup...
Among all these unplanned purchases, however, I was able to restrain myself from some unnecessary acquisitions. As badly as I wanted a book called The Book of Awesome from Target on Tuesday, I conjured up some super-human willpower and left it on the shelf, after a ten-minute debate. I will, though, be buying it at a later date (probably next week, after payday). Twice this week I went to Maurice's with my friend Laura and walked out without a single bag. Those of you who know of my love affair with Maurice's will applaud the considerable self-control I exercised on these outings. And last but not least, this afternoon I turned down both Chik-fil-A and Quiznos. I have been wanting a Quiznos chicken Caesar chopped salad for quite some time now, so this was an especially difficult craving to overcome. But I have Ramen noodles and cereal in my pantry, so I knew I wouldn't starve to death.
Better luck next week, I suppose.

Penny Pinching and Pepperoni Pizza

I started my month of frugality by promptly deleting the e-mails from Maurice’s, New York & Company, Charlotte Russe, and several other stores that I should just send my paycheck to. These e-mails seemed to fill my inbox on this particular day. I didn’t even allow myself to open the e-mails for fear that the allure of the super-duper sales would prove to be too much for me to handle. I’m in the beginning stages of this whole budgeting/saving thing, so I was afraid to tempt fate.

I did keep the Groupon and Living Social e-mails, though. These coupons for big savings in my area are just too hard to pass up sometimes. I keep them around because I never know when I’ll come across a 90 percent-off coupon for an alignment, full-body massage, or cup of frozen yogurt. And those are deals I just can’t ignore.

On day one, though, I had a small victory and a significant defeat. My victory came when my friend and coworker Laura asked if I’d like to accompany her to Homeland at lunch. She wanted a little something sweet. I too had a sweet tooth (but when do I not?). I agreed to join her, but I brought with me only my determination not to give in to my cravings. My wallet stayed at work. I told you it was a small victory…but it’s a victory nonetheless.

My setback came when, after zumba, I was drained of all energy and was not at all up to cooking. Randel was coming over (Wednesdays are our stay-in date nights), so I felt I should make something. After not much careful planning and zero deliberation, I decided a frozen pizza would work. Since I was basically skimping out on dinner, I figured I would get a DiGiorno pizza and cookies combo so we could finish off our un-fancy meal with a sweet treat. Unfortunately, Homeland didn’t have these wonderful new creations, so I settled for a Freschetta pepperoni pizza and a Symphony bar for both of us. While waiting in line, I perused the candy bars, tabloids, and random items that are strategically placed in the checkout line to taunt weak people like me. During my three-minute wait, I remembered I was out of gum and picked up a pack of Orbit Sweet Mint.

By the time I left the store, I was out $11 and the sense of confidence I had felt upon starting the day, the first day of the rest of my budgeting life. Sigh. I can only hope my willpower grows tremendously in the trying days to come.