The Soon to be Famous Bella Peaches

The other night I was witness to a rare event...watching your friend, the one you've known since you were eleven, who you've shared countless experiences from roadtrip fastpitch games to their wedding day, do something courageous--something they've dreamed about and actually had the audacity to make happen (which I would argue, not many people do). 

The beautiful Grace Mackey performed her first burlesque show...and stole it from everyone else on that stage. Going to the show, both Katie and I were nervous. Not nervous in the sense that we didn't think she was going to be amazing, but more anxious for your friend to do something courageous. Not many of us can get on a stage in front of a bunch of strangers (and dear close friends and family, including your mom) and shake what your momma gave you in a classy, memorizing way that you knew right away she had a secret talent that now everyone gets to witness. 

She was ridiculous--beautiful, talented, and outright sexy. It literally brought tears to my eyes to watch her, mostly out of pride for my friend, but also to see her succeed. 

Next month she will be performing with the Tempting Tarts (that's right she was already asked to perform with a group after just a few short weeks of classes), and then who knows...my guess is that our Greasy Butts will be a very famous Bella Peaches before we know it. 

Way to go Grace!

Triathlon Here I Come (Updated 2/12)

So it took 2.5 hours, but myself, Katie, Connie, Becky, Sara, Heidi and Margaret are officially signed up for the Danskin Triathlon.--a .5 mile swim, 12 mile bike ride and 3.1 mile run.I haven't swam, oh...let's say its been many many years...I'm guessing splashing around in a pool doesn't count, so that will be first on the agenda. I'll definitely need to hire Mr. Dan Abel for some state champion pointers (okay that was in diving, but he's still a fantastic swimmer). The most exciting part? New swimsuit, goggles and swim cap! Yeah!

Why? Just Because.

Yesterday's National Geographic Photo of the day: Pig and Piglet, Africa

Long Hair? No Mas.

Today is the last full day of my long hair. It seems like a silly thing to blog about, but it can be a pretty big deal. Every few years I grow it out and then cut it. I'm super excited this time, because it's long enough to send to Locks of Love. Sometimes I get freaked out about cutting it...what will I look like? Will I like it...because it's not growing back (reference to Lars and the Real Girl--love that movie!)? Will I look like a total nerd when I ask my hairdresser to give me a haircut like Katie Holmes? (probably...definitely). Yet what I'm not worried about includes not missing sweeping, picking, pulling my hair off and out of everything and everyone. It gets everywhere. Ben even asked when I was finally going to cut it...granted that was because I was shrieking b/c he accidentally laid on it and I was trapped....Let the haircut commence! Pictures to follow soon.

Back in the Game...Kind of

A long time ago, in a land far far away, I used to play racquetball, but again...it has been awhile.

At the end of last quarter I found out two of my classmates played every week and they invited me to play. During the snow storm, I thought I would rekindle my skills and dad and I played a few games at the Y. I felt pretty good...not bad...but then came last week.

Last week was our first match-up...cut-throat style. Six years out of the game versus two guys who have been playing for a while? 

Killed. 

Demolished. 

Slaughtered. 

I mean I've never played where the ball is served at me at 9 bagillion miles an hour. And on top of that? I couldn't lift my right arm for three days. Plus, it hurt to even write my forearm was so sore. 

The next day I was recapping my trip down loserville to Ben and he reminded me of a conversation that he had with one of the guys--that he used to play very competitive tennis...professional in my book. That's when it all started to make sense. No matter where I hit that stupid blue rubber ball, he was always there for the return. Seriously, I would hit it an inch off the ground and out of nowhere he would dive and get it (okay not literally, but you get the point).

The rematch was on today...and guess what? I didn't get killed quite as much. Of course they won (and not by a few points either), but I gave them more of a run for their money. My serves were better placed, my shots stronger, and my feet quicker. It could be the secret 5 a.m. serving drills I run every morning...just kidding...

My arm and back hurts as I'm typing...but not as much as last week. Woo Hoo!