Wearing masks: It's all in how you look at it.

 Hello everyone!

This is quite possibly the last blog you're going to get from me in a while. For those of you who know me, or who have been on this blog for a bit, you know that November is National Novel Writing Month or NANOWRIMO.  (And for those of you pondering writing a novel...this is a great way to jump start your project, PLUS IT'S FREE!)

Nanowrimo means that any writing I do in November, and actually starting this week, has to be dedicated to my newest work in progress "DEAL WITH THE DEVIL"  which is a continuation of the Rock Harbor Chronicles, specifically, Fresh Ice. I'm beyond excited to share the next generation of Rock Harbor stories...especially this time around because I get to bring back a couple favorite characters.  (Will we find out if Cat and Benny really named their daughter Thorina? Does Dave at 'Dirty Dog Dave's' have a romantic past of any kind?  And who, exactly, is Leon McNeon?)

But I'm not here to toot my own literary horn today. No, I have to make a comment on something that's fairly serious and yet...I'm not understanding why all the fuss and bother.

Of course I'm talking about WEARING THE MASKS.

A number of months ago, we were told we should wear face coverings to control the spread of COVID-19.  Well, if you look around the world today, (yes, even countries that aren't the US are having trouble controlling it, for those of you who want to just grumble about the US), you'll note that mask wearing has become a hot button political topic on the level of abortion or gay marriage.  

No, I'm not here to talk about either of those topics. This is about masks. Stay with me here.

People, and by people I mean especially women, what is the big deal?  It's a bit of cloth that, quite frankly, covers some REAL PROBLEM AREAS for us people of the female persuasion.  Don't believe me?  Ponder this:

Got a stubborn chin hair/lip hair issue and can't carry a razor/waxing strips/NAIR bottle with you everywhere?  MASK

Got a crooked smile you've never liked? MASK...and a Tyra Banks inspired "smile with the eyes."

Got an extra chin or two? MASK

Need a nifty little accessory for your ensemble? MASK

Winter's coming and you hate having a cold face, but really don't like the scratchy wool blends of scarves? (Why is this even a question?)  MASK

PEOPLE!  (and by "people", I mean everyone reading this blog)  why are we wasting precious time, energy, and goodwill shouting about wearing a mask?  Do not think of this as a political issue.  Do not think of this as a health issue (because apparently health is also political).

Just as with everything else in life, the amount of shrill screaming you participate in regarding the mask is directly linked to your attitude.  So buckle up, Snowflakes, Boomers, and everyone else,  I'm about to change your attitude and make the world a better place!  (And my mother never thought I'd do anything...)

When, in the history of our lives, have we been able to not only cover up problem areas, but do so in a really cute way?  When have we been so very able to express ourselves without saying a single word?  When have we been able to start a conversation with a stranger (right at at a 6 foot distance of course) about our favorite sports teams, movies, tv shows, catch phrases, whatever?

When have we been able to coordinate and outfit while also protecting our lips from the harshness of winter?

When have we had such an attractive barrier to our bad breath after an onion bagel breakfast?

IT IS ALL HOW YOU LOOK AT IT!

Not since the invention of the printed T-shirt have we had such a wide open way to express ourselves!  And, if you think about it, wearing face masks does NOT contribute to Tim Gunn's horror:  The Schlubifying of America!

 

My mask collection is pretty big for someone who leaves the house roughly three times a week.  It started with a simple polka dotted thing I got on eBay.  I now have six or seven masks, including TWO FORMAL mask, appropriate for a wedding or a formal business meeting (not that I ever have a formal business meeting, but you get it.)  I have a fun "Friends" mask that gets a lot of comments and of course, this being American Football Season, I have 2, count them, 2 Green Bay Packers masks.  Oh yeah, I also have a "Sarah the Author" mask for any book club/book signing appearances that might break out yet this year. (A girl can hope.)

Maybe you're someone who doesn't like wearing the mask because you only have yucky disposable masks to wear. Maybe you need to branch out a bit, and also support individual artists by finding masks hand crafted for websites like Etsy or eBay.  (I have done both.) You can shop at your favorite T-shirt website, or you can just google a tv show/movie/sports team and the word MASK and see what comes up! Find a mask you like. Sure, it might take a couple dollars and a little experimenting when it comes to the ear straps or what style you like best, but TRUST ME...it is impossible to be in a bad mood while wearing a mask with your favorite "Princess Bride" movie quote.  

Masks, unlike t-shirts, jerseys, and the like, tend to be very affordable and SMALL, so, you know, STOCKING STUFFERS!  (Or, for those of you who celebrate Hanukkah, I'm told a mask would be a very nice gift for one of the 8 nights.)  I do not know one single person who isn't running around saying, "Boy, I need just a small gift for Great Aunt Blah Blah."  Well, here you go...a gift for GREAT AUNT BLAH BLAH and all the other BLAH BLAH relatives that are on your shopping list.

There is literally a shop called the Christmas Face Mask Shop

Now, sure, some can argue that wearing a face mask means giving up freedom, that it's a sign of tyranny, that it's the government trying to control us.

Well, hey.  We're forced to wear shirts and shoes in buildings for far more arbitrary reasons than we wear masks.  

And, unless you're s surfer stoner from an 80's movie like Mr. Spicolli, you wear the shirt and shoes and make jokes about not wearing pants.  (Because we're all 8 years old and that's always a funny joke.)

So look. One blog isn't going to change the world. (My mother was right.)  But think about it, what takes more effort and makes the world a less happy place to live?  Griping about wearing a mask.  What makes your day brighter and covers that pesky little 5 o'clock whisker set you've got going on?  Wearing a fun mask.  

Anyone who's known me longer than a day knows my mantra:  Attitude is 95% of the game.  Well, have a good attitude, pick up some fun masks from an independent artist or custom design one yourself at my favorite website:  Vistaprint, and guess what?  Your life, and the lives of those around you might just suck a tiny bit less!

Sarah Attempts to Destroy Another Fitness Professional, but did she Succeed?

 Hello everyone!

I know. I know.  I haven't blogged in a long time. Well, let's face it. There isn't much to laugh about right now.  Even I am struggling to find humor in the dumpster fire that is 2020, what with the raging wildfires, the gigantic number of hurricanes and tropical storms, the protest/riots, the election where, if you're a casual observer, you're thinking the only two choices America has are an old racist white guy millionaire who treats women like second class citizens...or the other old racist white guy millionaire who treats women like second class citizens.  (Not for nothing, but there are 5 legit presidential/VP pairings on the Wisconsin ballot...and you still have the choice to write in Kanye West...so there are plenty of choices. But between the lack of coverage on the other candidates and outright voter shaming for those of us who chose to vote FOR SOMEONE instead of AGAINST THE OTHER PARTY, well...)

And, thanks to Covid, we're all stuck at home with nothing else to do but watch the news and obsess about it all. 

Wait...what was I saying?

Oh, right.  There hasn't been much to laugh about, even for me. UNTIL LAST WEEK!

That's right. Once again, Sarah got to take on another fitness professional and once again, she walked away a winner while the fitness guy sat weeping at his desk.  (Probably. I don't know. I managed to battle this one on the phone.)

Just to refresh your memories...back some ten years ago, I managed to get a personal trainer at Golds' Gym fired because during our introductory meetings he stood around chatting with another trainer and eating a donut. Readers know him as "Crumb Blowing Steve."  Later, I got a trainer fired at Experience Fitness because he lured me in with a phone call telling me "he was concerned about me" because "he hadn't seen me in a while."  I said, "Look, I come to this gym because people leave me alone and no one has tried to pressure sell me into sessions with a personal trainer. That's not what you're going to do, right?" He swore up and down it was not.

Except, it totally was.

While that guy didn't blow donut crumbs at me, he did make me weigh myself with my winter books and coat on. He did make me sit for half an hour and listen to him tell me I was lying to myself and to him about not having $900 a month lying around for personal training sessions.  And he made me run on a treadmill for several minutes.  I allowed him to abuse me in this way because...well...I'm a blogger and my material comes from living life in the 21st century.  

After a well worded email to the corporate office, that guy was never heard from again.

Now, it's not that I'm against personal trainers or fitness in general.  I'm not.  I've had some good experiences with personal trainers in the past.  (Gold's Gym made up for the Crumb Blowing Steve episode and gave me KRAM who featured in several blogs.  Experience Fitness...well...they didn't do crap.  So there's that.)  I have a very good friend who spent years with a personal trainer, lost a bunch of weight and is now a personal trainer herself.  And if I ever do decide that's the way I want to do, I'll have her train me, thank you very much.  

I am, instead, a crusader against high pressure body shaming by anyone.  I am what I am. I am taking steps to be better, and I think anyone in the health and fitness industry worth their salt will understand the importance of encouragement. It takes a village to get a fluffy girl off the couch and into her walking shoes. It takes one tiny,. thoughtless comment to slap her right back on that couch with a bucket of fried chicken and a gallon of marshmallow ripple ice cream.

Which brings us to the phone call last week. 

See, Hubby's insurance requires us, if we want to save significant bucks on our premiums each year, to go through an annual physical, report the results of said physical to our insurance and then suffer through...I mean, participate in, a couple health coaching phones calls. This happens every Autumn.  2 phone calls to pinpoint and coach on any health issue...any one at all...doesn't have to be about weight.

Okay, it's always about weight. At least with me.

The last two years have been fine. We pinpointed the problem, I'm fat.  We came up with a couple solutions:  Eat smaller portions, don't eat after 10 PM.  And, for two years, I've been reasonably good at that, but with no real weight loss.  So this year the random health coach person and I decided I need to eat breakfast every day.  I need to eat something in the morning to get my engines going and then to maybe lighten the giantgantor lunches I put together for myself because I'm starving.     Phone call one: Set the goal.  Phone call two should have been a quick follow up, and then a hearty, "See you next year!"

But no.  The cheerful, chirpy girl, Cindy (Although I imagine she spells it SYNDEE) scheduled a third phone call for me. Not a big deal, I figured this was something new for the 2020 COVID era.  So fine, I'll be available 15 minutes before and 15 minutes after my scheduled phone call time.

The day of Call 3 I weighed myself. I believe I've well documented how much I hate weighing myself.  More so now because Hubby got us a scale that syncs with our fitbits, which means I weigh myself and then that number shoots itself into the memory banks of my fitbit dashboard and there's no hiding from it then. There's no walking away from the scale and forgetting the number.  Sigh.  So on day 3 I weighed myself, and look at that...I lost 3 pounds in 10 days!  All from eating breakfast!  WOW!  I was on cloud nine!  I announced it by text to my family.  I realized 3 pounds isn't a big number, but it was a positive number...the first of its kind for me in a long time!  3 pounds!  I could NOT WAIT for SYNDEE to call me and rejoice with me.

Except...Syndee didn't call me. Nope, at precisely 14 minutes AFTER our scheduled time, a dour, grumpy, pissed off, unhappy, generally negative guy named John called my number.  

How can you picture him best?  Hmmmm....oh here:  

Well, okay. So I got a grumpy guy on the phone. Didn't matter, I LOST 3 POUNDS!  Which is what I said to him.  I said, "JOHN! I LOST 3 POUNDS!"  

To which John said, "Well, now let me look here. You weigh...XXX...and you lost 3 pounds?  That's a good thing, you think?"  

Well, now okay, granted, in the pantheon of weight loss, 3 pounds on a body like mine is...you know...3 pounds on a body like mine.  Still...

"What kind of exercise are you doing?"

Hey, I feel pretty confident on this one.  Syndee was over the moon when we talked about this.  So I started chirping cheerfully.  "I make sure I get 10,000 steps in at least six times a week. I make sure I get 45 active minutes or more each day.  I get up in the morning and I walk for 15-20 minutes just to kick off the day. I am working on drinking more water than just the 64 ounces too!"

"hm. And yet, you're still obese, is that right? So what new steps do you need to take?"

Wow. That was cold.  Still, I plowed on.  "We decided I should eat something for breakfast every day and I worked on that and I lost 3 pounds!"

"And what did you eat for breakfast?"  Asks Grumpy John.

Now, let's be honest. We all know what a good, nutritious breakfast should look like. Just like we all know we're supposed to eat more veggies than bread and more veggies than meat and just eat more veggies.  BUT...and this is key...SYNDEE did not tell me WHAT to eat for breakfast.  She just told me TO eat breakfast. So I ate what I had at hand.

"Let's see, a couple toaster waffles.  Maybe a yogurt.  Sometimes a bowl of cereal."

And that's when it got...rude.  Like, Crumb Blowing Steve rude.  Grumpy John says, "Well, I see we need to work on your eating then.  What, do you think, were your mistakes with your breakfast?"

Not sure about that...but I know my mistake was taking your call.

"Well," says I, "I'm sure cereal and waffles aren't the best selection but hey, the goal was to eat something for breakfast which I did and I lost weight."

"Yes, and 3 pounds is a small move in the right direction.  Although I see, you're quite morbidly overweight, so that's really not a big number, is it?  So, what other mistakes did you make with your breakfast choices?"

Now, at this point, he's using a tone on me like I'm seven and I've just peed outside the toilet bowl because I thought it was funny.  And this is when Sarah the Fitness Professional Killer rose up within me.

"Look, John," says I.  "I know what a good breakfast should look like."

"Then why didn't you eat one?  It could have been so simple.  You just make a whole grain waffle...then boil an egg, cut up some tomatoes, and add some, oh I don't know, lettuce or cucumbers for fun. Then you have a proper breakfast."

"Yes. And you also have me late for work...because I made a lunch instead of a breakfast and it took me twenty minutes to make."

John says, "Well, I know you're busy..."

"Do you, John?  Do you?  I just told you I lost 3 pounds in 10 days because I worked on something you people told me I needed to work on and I did it and it was successful and you're treating me like a child, like a stupid child. I know what a healthy breakfast looks like. I know what I should be doing. This is not about knowing what is right.  This is about coaching me and being supportive and being happy for me when I SUCCEED!"

Boy I thought I'd won the day with that.

Nope.

"Yes, but if you made a whole grain waffle instead of one you just get out of the freezer, that's so much better for you. Maybe sprinkle some flax over it all.  Or you could make just the boiled egg and the tomatoes and other veggies. That would actually be better than piling on carbs."

Never in my life have I wanted to be on a recorded line as much as I did for this phone call.  "I doubt I'll ever have time in the morning to make the kind of breakfast you're suggesting, John. But I'll try and do better with my choices."

"Well there, see, now you're making a little better progress."

I had no words.  I'd been so unbelievably excited...and then this.

There was a pause, then Grumpy John says, "Do you have any questions for me?"

"Not at the moment, no." I respond, trying really hard not to cry.

"Okay, so when do we want our next call to be?"

And this is when I really lost it.  Hubby only had to do two calls. It's always only been two calls.  Now he wants a fourth call?

"Look, John, why are we scheduling another call?  I mean, it's always only been two, and this one right now is my third this year and you want another one?  Why are you treating me like a special case?"

"Oh, well, I mean, if you think you can handle this on your own, then we don't need to schedule another call."

He probably should not have left me open like that.  But he wounded me.  All I wanted was a little bit of cheering.  I would have scheduled another call with Syndee. Instead, I said this.  "Well, if it were with any other person I've ever talked to from your company, then I would do a fourth call. But since it would be with you...then no thank you. I'm good."

There was another short pause.  Clearly, neither of us were finished with this.

"Well, okay. I mean, if you're sure you have a good support system around you."

"Oh I do, John. I do."

"Do you?  Are you sure?"

"Well, John, I'm pretty sure they're more supportive than you've been."  And at that, I hung up.

It's so clear to me how much a word of encouragement does and a word of discouragement destroys.  I'm still plugging away, but John's general tone of disapproval lingers in my brain.  Oh if only I could have sent an email to his superiors.  I'm really good at scathing emails.  Alas...I don't have a direct line to that management team.

Meanwhile, I have 50 more weeks before my next health coaching call.  So there's that.