A New Megism

Ovarydrive: When your ovaries go a little bananas at close exposure to a hot man, a cute baby, puppy or kitten. Possible symptoms: change in menstrual cycle.


Okay, so I found this, from November 2012, in my drafts folder, and I had to share it. This is too good not to post!

Proprioceptive Neuromuscular Facilitation

When I came across the three words in the title of this post on my Kindle today, I was a bit...flummoxed.

See, I have a pretty decent vocabulary (I use words like flummoxed, for heaven's sake), but "proprioceptive" is a new one on me. I highlighted it and looked it up and it basically relates to stimuli that are within an organism. Right! Clear as...mud.

So that didn't really help my understanding of what PNF means, naturally. Time to turn to Google!

According to a couple of sources, proprioceptive neuromuscular facilitation sounds--to my untrained brain, anyway--like a very serious way of saying, "stretching." Of course, it's way more complicated than that, and just another question on the fast-growing list of questions I have for Matt, who recommended this book in the first place. He's going to be so sick of me approaching him at the gym with glassy eyes, my mouth slightly agape, and my Kindle dangling precariously from my fingertips.

Maybe I should make him brush up on secondary dominant chords or something. Even up the playing field a bit. ; )

Anyway, I may take a few days off from reading this "Movement" book because my brain is getting a bit fried and I have two full days of teaching ahead. And I want to finish the not-so-dry book I've been reading about China. And learn to use my new camera. And sleep. Yes, I definitely want to sleep.

Snarkable

As I walked up to the trainer area with M. the Reasonable today, after another great workout, I motioned to the dog sled and said, "There's a blog post about that." (M. knows that I blog, and that he makes appearances in the blog under the nickname M. the Reasonable--he loves his nickname, too, for the record.) M. laughed and asked what I'd written, and I gave him a small outline of what I'd said.

"Funny," I told him. "I don't really share my blog with you much. I used to show posts to G. all the time...but then, I wrote a lot of snarky stuff about him."

This got another laugh, so I went on. "Thing is, I don't have anything really snarky to say about you. You're not very snarkable."

And so, dear readers, a new Megism is born. M. just laughed and said, "Snarkable! I like that word!" What can I say? I'm creative.

It's Just Scrazy

Middle school kids on a windy day are scrazy.

Driving in California is scrazy.

Taking the elevator to the 900-feet-high top of the Eiffel Tower is scrazy.

What does scrazy mean, exactly?

It's what you get when you add one tired middle school music teacher, her equally tired friend in California, and AOL Instant Messenger. I meant to type "scary" but somehow, in the middle of this, my brain thought, "No, you mean 'crazy'" and that was that. My brilliant mind came up with a new word. : P

It's scrazy how I do that sometimes. It was pointed out to me at that point in the conversation that "kindergato" was a great invention, too.

But yes, it's been a bit on the scrazy side today...when you combine a fire drill, an assembly, and high winds, you get crazy kids. Every school I've worked at, people will comment on how rowdy the kids get on windy days. It's right up there with full moons. Things were just a teensy bit out of normal routine today and the kids just barely cope with it. Remind me not to dye my hair blue or anything. That might just send them into overload.

Scrazy.