Photo by jpeepz on flickr

Saturday was my hubby’s birthday and to celebrate we took the big kids to see The Muppets. Bobby and I were really excited about it because we looove the Muppets. We have some of the episodes on DVD and the kids have seen a few, but it had been awhile since we’d watched any.  They were a little nervous about it, Joshua because he’s always a little nervous about ev.er.y.thing. and Sophie because she was being a total booger and had just decided she was going to be difficult that day (Happy Birthday, Daddy!).

But, by the time we got into the theatre and began plying them with candy, everyone was in a pretty good mood.  Until the opening little ads for whatever-the-hell company that invented surround sound and digital picture and all that started – you know – the ones where they play theater-filling musical, vibratory tones as LOUDLY as possible so that all your seats shake and your eardrums beg for mercy?  Yeah, we were doing great until those.  My kids didn’t enjoy thinking that there was an earthquake happening in the theater.

And then.

The previews.

Preview after preview after preview after preview.

I remember when the previews were the best part of the movie.  Well, those days are gone.  Because back then, there were three previews max, and now, there are 487 and they are all so loud you want to crawl under your seats.  Both of my kids had their hands covering their ears during many of the previews.  It was ridiculous.  And then, there are of course the commercials that run before the previews, the friendly message about turning off your cell phone, and the short cartoon that precedes the main event.  By the time we got to the Toy Story cartoon, which was admittedly cute, I was so pissed, and so tired of the kids fussing about the previews and asking if NOW the movie was going to come on, I wanted to break Buzz Lightyear’s neck just to get the story overwith.

When the movie finally started, Bobby held up his cell phone so I could see the time.  It was 1:19.  The movie start time was supposed to have been 12:55.

Twenty-four minutes of previews.  Twenty-four minutes of a fidgety five-year-old’s attention span GONE.  Twenty-four minutes of stress for the two parents who were just trying to show their children a good time.  Twenty-four minutes of torture that we paid for.

UGH.  I am pretty unhappy.  The MPAA should be ASHAMED of themselves.

Thank God the movie was great, or I probably would have gone all MacGyver, made something spark-y out of the contents of my purse, and torched the place on our way out!

PREVIEW MY RAGE, people!!

Like pretty much everywhere on the face of the earth, it’s been hideously hot in Ohio for the last week. So, in an effort to beat the heat, we went to our local water park over the weekend. This was smart for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which being A) the temperature is always 20 degrees hotter inside the gates of an amusement park than outside; B) the concrete had soaked up every bit of the heat and was like walking on fire; and C) everyone else in southwestern Ohio had the same bright idea.

Not that I’m bitter.

But the best part is that it was slightly overcast while we were there and, in an effort to not leave as the whitest person in attendance, I decided to forgo sunscreen.

BAD MOVE.

I am so burnt. Those are not my actual legs pictured above (mine are just as red but slightly less hairy) but take that image and apply it to my entire body and that should give you a good idea of what I’ve got going on.

And it’s making me mad. Seeing as how my skin tone is akin to copier paper, I have had a number of bad burns in my life. There was the time I thought putting on suntan oil at the beach was a good idea, and the time I spent a few days on the coast of Spain, not accounting for the fact that I was laying my beach towel directly on the equator. Burning is nothing new to me – but getting mad about it is. I think I am getting grumpy in my old age or something, because this time around any benefit I might eventually get from this scenario (as in possibly no longer being florescent) is vastly outweighed by the fact that I am extremely uncomfortable. And apparently at the ripe old age of 32, I’ve decided that comfort trumps all.

If you need me, I’ll be out shopping for zinc oxide and elastic waist pants.

I’ve recently discovered free group fitness classes offered by my employer on the lunch hour.

Ok, it’s not fair to say I just discovered them – I tried a few when they were first offered (oh, about 3 years ago) but haven’t been back since. A couple weeks ago, though, I gave them another try, and I absolutely love them. I’ve done sports cardio, circuit training, pilates, cardio toning and tai chi (not going back to that one, but the others are great).

So anyway, the problem is that Wednesday’s cardio toning class just about killed me. I didn’t even know it at the time – it didn’t seem TOO bad, and I felt good after it. The class contained about 30 minutes of upper body free weight exercises. And now? I don’t think I’ll ever have use of my arms again.

I have seriously never been so sore in my life. My biceps are KILLING ME. It hurts to lift anything at all. I can barely even straighten them, they hurt so bad. I feel like a complete wimp, but apparently I overdid it and now I’m paying the price.

Ugh.

Oh, and in case you were wondering – since I wrote about doing the Couch to 5k program again… I haven’t run a step.

I am the awesome.