Damn that Oprah!

Thanks to her genius colleague, Agent J, PP has finally figured out why the YMCA is so goddamned crowded.

Oprah!

She had her stupid 'Bestlife' series last week, and encouraged everyone who's fallen offa the Diet Wagon to get back on--of course this entails getting back into the Gym Wagon too.





Which has obviously spilled over into the pool!





Damn that Oprah!

Just eat another chicken and shut up already!

So, PP can get back to swimming in peace!

Without any Oprah Bestlifers to contend with.

Okay?

TattleTale

“Hey!” Paddle Man spits, “He’s got a Band-aid on!” He points at Hemophiliac Swimmer’s big toe, wrapped tightly in a gross skin colored Band-aid. “He’s not supposed to be wearing a Band-Aid in the pool!” PM hisses and postures, his sad wide pink torso heaving in indignation.

PP starts to giggle as she watches HS completely ignore PM and jump belly flop into the pool and start swimming. PM’s indignation rises. The nerve! Doesn’t he know that Band-Aids aren’t allowed in the pool? Who the hell does he think he is?

PM tries again, wailing at the group of 3 lifeguards who’ve all been standing around at the side of the pool, chatting amiably with HS as he waits for a lane, “Did you see that?” PM’s ire rises as he waves at the disappearing band-aided swimmer, “HE jumped in the pool with a Band-Aid on! Aren’t you gonna do anything?”




One of the lifeguards starts to laugh and then waves at PM dismissively. “Oh, that’s Boyd, he’s okay. He can do what he wants.”

“But...but....he has a Band-Aid on....and....” PM sputters as he watches helplessly. HS is halfway down the pool and going strong. No doubt the Band-Aid is doing its job. Keeping the blood from oozing out due to his hemophiliac condition. Frankly, PP is glad that HS has a Band-Aid on. She wouldn’t want any of his blood condition to leak into the pool. This is much more distressing than some stupid Band-Aid coming off in the pool. Though she has to admit that Band-Aids floating around on the bottom of the pool are disgusting.

But not as disgusting as PM trying to get HS to remove his Band-Aid before entering the water.

Nah. If PM got his way, he’d be like the tattletale on the playground ratting out the other kid for some minor transgression. And getting the teacher to listen to him. Now this would really be a travesty.




Letting a tattletale get his way. His big mouth telling all.

PP has a solution for that.

Just put a Band-Aid over his big sputtering mouth, and let the games begin!

La La Laaa, Sanctuary!

“La, La, Laaa!” the handsome middle-aged Asian clerk sings at me as I walk into the lobby of the Oakland YMCA. I’m cranky, but can’t help but let a grin slip out. “Sanctuary!” he calls out as he swipes my card and motions for me to head on into the Y. “Enjoy your swim!”

As I grab a couple of towels and head down the stairs, I shake my head. Sanctuary? Okay, yes, sometimes I do believe this. That the YMCA is the only sanctuary I can find in my hectic and frustrating existence here in the Bay Area, esp. when I partake of Utopia with DL. This can be paradise. But today?

No way is the Y anywhere near a sanctuary. It’s all those New Years Resolvers. Crowding into the locker room. Into the pool. Into my psyche.
And frankly, this is no sanctuary.

Unlike the sanctuary-blessed Magdalena Ecke YMCA in Encinitas. Now here is Sanctuary. A Free Parking Lot! A locker room that’s uncrowded and clean. A big beautiful new pool that is sunlit and turquoisy even though it’s indoors. (The sunlight shines through the glass tiles of the tilted roof.)

And best of all: My OWN lane!

When the hell did I get my own lane here at Oakland? Certainly not today. In fact, today was Crash Day.

Foolishly, I thought, just maybe, I would get my own lane cuz the end lane became available and so I snagged it. And yes, for about 15 minutes it was my own. But then......

Wide Load Snorkel Woman got in and watch out.






“You wanna circle or lanes?” she asked.
I eyed her snorkel and wide load self and thought, I’ll keep my own lane. Circling with her would be a hazardous chore. And so we did. Split the lane. And it went ok for a little while till ‘whap!” she conked me on the arm. And being the HSK that I am, it hurt! But I swam on. And she did too. Of course.
Till she whacked me again. Then she stopped, “Sorry!” and since she was so sincere, I didn’t growl at her. But again, this is my Sanctuary?

I think not.

And what would be? I mean, what does sanctuary mean anyway? I can only think of a Bird Sanctuary where the wild near extinct ones can alight and be protected from all the housing developments and such.



Well, the Y was full of Housing Developers today and I’d had enough. “It’s sure busy,” I’d commented to Wide Load as I prepared to get out.
“IT’s always busy!” she harrumphed.
“Not usually at this time,” I argued.
“It’s all the New Members,” she agreed.
“Ah, yes....well, that won’t last long. You know how those New Years Resolutions go.”
She stared at me for a moment, then burst out laughing. “You got that right!” before heading down the lane, her wide load floating in slow easy fluidity.

And I hafta stop and think. This pool is Her Sanctuary.
And yes, maybe it’s even mine, thanks to her.

As far as the La la la Part?

Well, I’ll leave that for the Birds!

Odiously Ill

A most foggy brain & obnoxious cough, alas, will delay PP's next So Cal stories about the World's Weirdest Motel:







and the Magdelena Ecke Fab YMCA Pool in beauteous Encinitas.....






Hopefully, she'll be well enough to complain and rave about both by tomorrow!

Till then, drink some echenacia tea and down some sudafed for her!

The World's Safest Beach

“Look!” DHBF points and exclaims. “A shark!”

PP cracks up. Of course it can’t possibly be a shark. After all, they’re on the World’s Safest Beach: Carpenteria. And as she gazes out toward where he’s pointing, the water safely smooth and pinkie purple in the setting sun dusk, she does spy the fin too.





“Do you see it?” he asks, anxiously.
“That’s not a shark!” PP giggles. “It’s a Dolphin!” Delighted she treads closer to the water’s edge to get a closer view of the dark fin atop the sleek gray body that dives and surfaces, like a rainbow, up and down. No one swims like a dolphin!

“Look! There’s another!” DHBF hurries down the sand, pointing excitedly. And sure enough, there is. One. Two. Three. All headed toward Santa Barbara for an evening’s swim in the quickly darkening sea. It’s Dolphin cocktail hour up at the Blue Fin Inn.

Sighing, PP grins. Dolphins. She can’t remember the last time she saw these best of swimmers! Maybe that time in Encinitas when she and her sister were sitting up on the bluff one bright golden morning? Yes. Sis had spied them. A whole herd of them. Or is it a pod? Dancing in the golden blue water that sparkles in Encinitas.





This was a long time ago. PP can’t remember when it was. But she still sees these swimmers, frolicking in the golden morning sea. And she still remembers the magic and the delight she felt at spying them out in the sea.

And so tonight, here on the World’s Safest Beach, with DHBF at her side, she feels all happy inside. Corny as it sounds.

The World’s Greatest Swimmers have that effect on her.

Which is no surprise!

PP starts to sing the ‘Jaws’ theme song at DHBF. “Da Daa Da Daa Da Daa....” And then points out to sea again, where the trio have since disappeared. “Look! A shark!” she jokes.





And he grabs her round the waist, dancing on the dusky sand, before they fall into giggles.

“Ready to check out the Motel 6?” she asks.
“Sure, it’s getting dark,” he grins.




But they stand for a moment, gazing out at the last of the bright pink clouds casting an enchanting glow on the World’s Safest Beach. PP sighs deeply....

Dolphins.

It’s gonna be a good trip.

Christmas Chaos!

“You swim in the water. The rest of us just walk.”

PP nodded at Well-Preserved African American Gent, M’s talkative friend. She was tired and ready for the hot tub; it’s been a helluva week at the Y. The holidays make everything so hard, esp. the pool. Yet, she’s glad to know that her swimming ability still somehow survives the Chaos.

And why so much Chaos at the Y? It’s like everyone in the entire Bay Area swarmed into the YMCA on Christmas Eve. And then to top it off, DL thought that it was a Meter Holiday and got a damn ticket!

“That ain’t no Christmas Card” the smart-ass clerk at the front desk had remarked to DL when she showed her the ticket.
No. It’s not. It’s one hella expensive trip to the gym.

And then the chaos in the locker room! Crowds of women in the hot tub, hanging out on the narrow white bench in their towel turbans, waiting in line for the showers. PP was definitely feelin claustrophobic and overwhelmed.

Not to mention, Bragging I’ll Save You From a Coma Woman had everyone rapt with her story of keeping an elderly Indian Woman from slipping into a Coma while hot tubbing.

“How’d you do that?” PP was naturally curious since it seems like Comas are all the rage at the Y.

“I just knew that I had to keep her Core alive. Her Consciousness There. So I just took bottles of cold water and kept on pouring them over her head and she kept on just waking up before slipping into that darker world. She's had a Hard Life. You could see It in her Eyes.”






PP had nodded, loving the poetry of this line in addition to this vital anti-coma resuscitation information.

You never know when she might need it. Though she hoped she wouldn’t. Not being the resuscitation type and all.

So, now she’s off to the sunny warmer climes of San Diego for the week. She hopes to swim at the Encinitas YMCA and also the Boys and Girls Club Sunshine Pool and maybe even the Claremont Pool and there will be less Chaos than what she's encountered this week in Oakland.

PP is hot on the Pool trail. She may even try to swim at the Super 8 Pool in Santa Clarita.






Now there would be a story!

So, Happy New Year and thank goodness the Christmas Chaos is over.

PP will continue to swim on water.

She’ll leave the walking on water to you know Who!

The Rule Breakers

“They know they not suppose to be hanging stuff on there.” Rhinestone Turban Tyrant (What is it about turbans?) wrinkled her nose and sighed and frowned and shifted and all around harrumphed at the large pair of pink rose panties hanging over the wooden bar by the sauna rocks. “They’s rules about that.”

“Don’t you know that the rules are for Other People?” Super Swimmer Woman chuckled. It was a joke after all. Who cares if the panties are hanging out to dry in the sauna? Seemed like a good idea to PP.

“That the problem,” RTT continued, truly miffed. It was no joke to her.

“They say that if we see someone breaking the rules, we’re supposed to call upstairs,” SSW added, “But I don’t like Policing People.”

“Yeah, it’s not relaxing,” PP affirmed, thinking how she wasn’t gonna go around calling up the front desk every time she witnessed a ‘rule’ being broken.

Which reminds her of how Sneaky Oprah booby trapped her studio audience the other day by setting up a ‘snitch situation’ to test them out. Some of the empty chairs in the studio had ‘reserved’ flyers on them, and one of Oprah’s producers came in and looked around and then snatched the flyer off the chair and sat down, trying to take advantage of someone else’s ‘reserved’ seating. Then the women all around the Seat Stealer gave her dirty looks or laughed, or raised their eyebrows, but no one ‘snitched’.





Oprah was appalled by this. But the Guest Psychologist wasn’t surprised. People won’t ‘risk’ their own safety for a ‘moral principle’ unless it directly affects them.




Oprah’s such a Devious Bitch. Like anyone would ‘tell’ on someone that took a reserved seat: PP knows she wouldn’t. Hell, she thought it was empowering to go into Oprah’s Studio Audience and snatch away a Reserved sign and then sit yourself down.

“They know better. They been tol before,” RTT further scolded into the Utopian Air.

“But what’s wrong with hanging their stuff there?” PP asked, broken from her Oprah musings. “I mean, is it gonna catch on fire?”

RTT turned on PP and gave her a look like ‘Are you kidding me?’ but then answered anyway. She was the Authority, “That..... Yes...... Plus, it’s Unsanitary.”

Unsanitary? Now PP really wanted to pursue this idea. How could the drying panties be unsanitary? Were their Panty Koodies wafting on the waves of heat into the Sauna air and infiltrating all the women's opening pores causing all sorts of dirty diseases?

Somehow, this didn’t seem likely, but then, again, what did PP know?

Even so, PP wasn’t gonna ‘snitch’ on Diabetes Woman (for this is who had hung her Panties out to dry). Nor was she gonna risk her Utopian Experience by telling RTT that she was full of shit.

No, not her. She had her own agenda when it came to Utopia. Call her selfish, but unless Oprah's around, PP isn't gonna stick her neck out.

It's just too much risk.

Besides, she's all for breaking the rules. Especially if a Turban Tyrant's involved.

It Stuck

"It stuck."
PP glances down at the murky water where Hot Tub Mama (HTM) is poking around with her large brown toe.
HTM makes a face: it's disgust and exasperation but also one of resignation. What do you expect with the riffraff that frequents the hot tub?

PP can't tell what is 'stuck' exactly, but she doesn’t try to see very hard. After all, HTM’s big bare foot isn’t what she wants to focus on when hot tubbing.
"Band-Aid." HTM nods.




"Oh," PP nods, still unable to see the object she's pointing to. Yet does register a similar disgust--aren't band-aids banned in the pool and hot tub?
"It stuck," HTM repeats.
"I guess it can't squeeze through the cracks of the drain down there," PP offers.
"Ummm...." HTM nods. It's enough to convey that….. what? Who knows? After all, PP is stuck on not being able to see what's stuck so she guesses she’ll just have to take HTM’s word for it that it's a Band-Aid.

Several other women are in the hot tub, babbling away in Chinese. They don't pay attention to the 'stuck' conversation. It’s unimportant, but PP doesn't know what is important since she doesn't speak Chinese. Probably food. Or kids. Or lazy good for nothing husbands. Or the lack of hot water in the showers. Or all of the above.

Probably not stuck band-aids!

Frowning Asian Woman slides down the steps and grins over at PP, a first. This pleases PP. She hadn’t realized she was in FAW’s scope at all.
“Hello,” she nods as she squeezes in between PP and HTM.
“It stuck,” HTM begins again to FAW.
FAW peers curiously down at the pointed place. “Ummm….” she murmurs noncommittally.
“Band-aid," HTM grunts.
FAW’s frown increases, “Band-aid,"she repeats.
“It stuck,” HTM also repeats.

PP tries not to laugh.....





Someone is definitely Stuck.

Thanksgiving at Vichy Springs

Winding down the dark quiet country road to Vichy Springs, PP can barely contain her excitement! At last! Back to her favorite pool in the world (well, so far!). She can't wait to jump in.

And sure it's November. Thanksgiving weekend. The pool will be cooler than it was in June. She knows this and is prepared. She's brought her wet suit and her leggings and her anti-chill resolve.

She will swim in the Splendid Vichy Springs pool no matter what the temperature!

Now, tired but relaxed in post Thanksgiving haze with the family--so much food, so much T.V., not enough swimming (translation--no swimming!), PP is ready to dive in to the pool as she and DHBF tromp up the front steps lined with chubby orange pumpkins to the resort office.



"Hi, we have a reservation," DHBF greets the usual charming young man who helps out with the routine hotel check-in stuff. They chat, PP spaces out, dreaming of the pool and how she's going to dive in the next morning.

"And anything else I can help you with, just let me know. I'm going to be going home early tonight since it's the holiday but you can reach me on my cell--the number's posted on the front door here."
"Great, thanks," DHBF nods and hugs PP's round the waist as she leans into him.
"Before you go, can you tell me the temperature of the pool?" PP manages to ask in spite of her pool reverie.
"The Big Pool?" Charming Young Man is trying not to laugh, or is she being too sensitive & imagining his smirk? Her HSK is always on high alert when it comes to pool temps.
"Yeah, the Big Beautiful Pool!" PP grins.
"58."
"58 degrees?" she repeats. Could she have heard this correctly? Can a pool really get this cold? Impossible!
"Yeah, we've had some cold nights. The days have been warmer, but the nights. They've been pretty chilly."



"I guess so," PP nods, still in shock. 58 degrees! What's she gonna do? She was thinking that if the pool were, say, 72 or even 70, she'd just take the COLD plunge, don her wet suit, swim a really fast lap and then run screaming into the hot tub.

But 58 degrees?

Could she do that? Or would she go into swimming core temp shock? Freeze in mid-stroke and then sink like a big ice cube to the bottom of the pool?

"The hot tub is 104 and the champagne baths are 92," he offers unhelpfully as PP continues to stare at him in disbelief.

"See, Honey," DHBF teases, "we'll just have to go in the hot tub and baths this time."

"Yeah, I guess so."

But PP is not going to listen to such sage advice. She's gonna get the wetsuit out and dive into the 58 degrees anyway. Throw her HSK chill factor to the polar bears!





And so she does. The next morning she rises with the warming sun. It must be nearly 70 degrees outside, so this is good. She stands at the edge of the blue blue pool and sighs at its clear inviting calm. Takes a deep breath. Then puts on her wetsuit. Her mask. Her fins. And then....

Are you kidding?

No way was she gonna swim in 58 degree water no matter how delicious it looked.

Appearances are so seductive, esp when it comes to your favorite pool in the world!

But she won't be seduced. She knows where she's headed as she climbs up the gravel path, across the vine covered bridge to the 104 degree hot tub to soak up its soothing embrace.

Snow Swim????

"Ahhh....It feels so good on your back, doesn't it?"

"Oh, yes!" PP agreed, even though her neck was hurting much more than her back after her frigid swim at the Berkeley Y (Oakland was closed for "Family Float Night"--PP had considered trying to SINK all those families in some diabolical plot outta AMC, but then had decided it might be easier, though perhaps less satisfying, to just swim at the B. Y.)

Now in Utopia of Berkeley, she was finally thawing out and relaxing. And happy that someone was talking to her here at this Utopia even though it was AGAINST the rules! You may or maybe not recall how PP had marveled at a previous Berkeley Y visit how one of the rules listed on the Sauna Door was, "Please refrain from conversation".

Hello?

So when Good On Her Back Woman spoke, it was ,WOW!, a Sauna Rebel.

Well, she wouldn't expect anything less in Berkeley!

"I've been painting all day!" Berkeley Rebel sighed.
"No wonder your back hurts!"
"Yes. And it's an Old House. Had the original paint."
"Mmmm..." PP wasn't sure what the significance of this was, but it sounded harder on your back. That original paint. But why? It took more coats? Or it took more sanding off? Or, it was just inconsequential as far as back pain, and BR was just finally getting around to painting her house after 50 years?

"I try to do a lot of stretching in here. When I'm warm!" BR exclaimed completely off the paint topic. PP did note that this was another rule being broken. She was pretty sure the signage also forbade stretching in the Sauna.




"That's a good idea," PP agreed, trying to stretch her arms over her head without the neck pain. But hey, voila! It was gone--thanks to Utopia. At least for now.

"Yes, I find that I am much more able to stretch in here than out in the cold."
"Yeah, I don't stretch well in the cold. Or swim well in the cold. The pool was COLD tonight."
"Was it? I remember when I was in Munich....or was it Innsbruck....?" BR's voice trailed off wistfully; PP couldn't tell how old she was since it was so dark in the Berkeley Utopia, but maybe this was a memory that was coming out of long ago?

"Anyway, I think it was Munich. No it couldn't have been. We were there in the wrong time of the year. There couldn't have been any snow then..."
"Snow?"
"Yes, it was Innsbruck. And you wouldn't believe it. People would go swimming and then go jump in the snow and then jump back in the pool. And of course the pool felt warm compared to the snow. I had to do it once. Just to say I did it!" she proclaimed proudly, chuckling.




PP shook her head, laughing. "No way would I do it! I hate the Cold, esp. the Snow. I can't imagine combining the pool and the snow, unless I were inside a nice warm glass pool house and you could see the snow from the pool!"
"Yes! That was exactly it! It really was quite something."

PP nodded, even though she knew that BR couldn't see her. Swimming in the snow. Why would anyone do such a thing? Wouldn't the water from your wet swim suit then turn to ice? Or how does snow work anyway?

PP doesn't want to know.

"I should get going before I roll out of here. And believe me, that wouldn't be a Pretty Sight!" BR laughed at herself as she rose, out of the shadows and PP beheld a typical Berkeley Rebel Type: Roly Poly, 60 something, White Woman with long gray hair.

PP wanted to see her roll out to be honest. She'd never witnessed such an exit from Utopia.

But it was probably against the rules.

And it definitely would NOT feel good on your back!

I am Woman She is Woman.....

Resting her forehead on the shower wall, PP lets the warm water beat down on her tired head. After the swim. After the hot tub. After Utopia.

She's finally relaxed.
Until.....

A loud, disgusting, loogie spitting throat clearing snort to her right, at the end of the row of showers, breaks her Relaxation Trance.

Gross.

Why do people spit in the shower? Not only is there signage all over the YMCA shower scene forbidding such phlegmy transgressions, but it's also just goddamn inconsiderate not to mention unsanitary!

She glances in the Spitting Direction to see two women in a heated argument. She can't tell what they're saying. Part of this is cause they're too far away, the other part is that her ears are still plugged up with water and another part is that she's just too tired to try to gather a story. Sometimes it's just so much effort. She just wants to relax and not write, even if the story is right in front of her.

Or to the side of her.

Which this one was.

One of the women, PP knew. A sweet, pale Pear Woman who often chats with PP in the hot tub, but sometimes not, which is cool. She's gesticulating and her face is a Huge Angry Grimace as she glares at the woman who PP assumes in the Spitting Woman.

Spitting Woman she hasn't seen before. A brown, stout, folds on stomach woman, who has her back to PP and is also yelling.





It's a little disconcerting since such outbursts are relatively rare here at the YMCA, but they do happen.

So, PP speculates that Pear Woman is yelling at Spitting Woman for laying the huge blastoff sounding loogie in the shower, which from PP's perspective is reasonable. Though PP wouldn't say anything. Or maybe she might. It would depend on her mood. Though generally she doesn't want to start any confrontations at the Y. Esp with Stout Spitting Women.

And so, a few minutes later, after both women had finished their Yelling Showers, PP was drying off by the steam room when Pear Woman shuffled by, her face still in an angry frown. PP couldn't help herself; she had to find out the story.

"What was That all about earlier?" she asked, knowing that PW would know what she was talking about.
"She is so Rude. She told me. I can Not WASH THERE!" PW lifted one leg and pointed at her Vagina. PP didn't look too closely, but it was quite a dramatic showing.
"Really?" PP wanted the story to continue. "That's odd. Why did she care?"
PW shrugged, still mad. "I dunno. She told me I had to go THERE!" She pointed to the steam room.
This puzzled PP. You were supposed to go wash your vagina in the steam room and not the shower?
Interesting.




"That's weird," PP nodded.
"I know!" PW stamped her little bare foot and placed a pudgy hand on her hip. "I don't know what the problem is. I am Woman. She is Woman. What the Big Deal?"
"I don't know," PP offered unhelpfully. "That's a good point. We are all women here."
PW nodded in angry agreement. "I don't know her. I don't understand. I not go in THERE!"

And then she stomped off, her plump bottom wriggling in angry jiggles.

So. It wasn't about spitting at all, but about washing. PP thought about checking out the Steam Room and seeing if there were a crowd of Vagina Washing Women in there. But then again, this did seem a bit unlikely. While a good story.

Plus,why the banishment to the steam room anyway? Why not utilize the shower for this, admittedly, private activity in a public place. Cuz, maybe some women just took showers at the Y and didn't shower at home at all? Or maybe some women liked the exhibistionistic aspect of public showers. Though PP thinks this isn't the case. They just want to get clean.

And isn't this what being in the shower is all about? Washing? (Though PP has to admit that sometimes the Vagina Washing can get very inhibited, but this kind of inhibition fascinates rather that repulses her.)

As Spitting Woman must have demonstrated? Was she spitting in disgust at PW's Vagina Washing?

Could this really be?





Nah. This couldn't really be.
Or could it?
Well, if so, PP is gonna have to just point out to Spitting Woman that, in fact, the signage is very clear:
"No urinating, no spitting, no tooth brushing in the showers."
Nowhere does it say, "No Vagina Washing in the Showers! All Vagina Washing must be transacted in the Steam Room."

PP smiled.
Stories.
She just couldn't help finding them.
And then she was strangely compelled to write them down.
Now what the hell was that about?





Maybe she'd have to spend some time in the steam room to find out.

DL's Time Poem

you know time is passing cuz you're not saying that
anymore
you know its passing cuz you have to work again and run
outa the door
you know its passing cuz mac and dom are screaming proudly
you know its passing cuz they want their kibble badly and
LOUDLY





you know its passing cuz tidbit finally got you a chapter
you know its passing cuz you're hungry at utopia and after
you know its passing cuz lizard neck is back
you know its passing cuz you just wanna go to hawaii and
unpack





you know its passing cuz its fucking freezing outside
you know its passing cuz you had a melt down and cried
you know its passing cuz your hair is bad then beautiful
you know its passing cuz you were late answering this
email!!

How do you know Time is passing?

"Where is everyone tonight?" PP asked DL as they luxuriated in the hot tub post swim and workout at the Y. All the usual suspects were absent this evening--no Diabetes Woman, No Hot Tub Mama, no Breast Pumping Woman, no Marvelous M.

"I dunno...." DL murmured, happy in the warmy bubbles.

"It's the showers." Super Swimmer Woman called out to them from her drying off routine at the bench. "They're cold."

"But how would you know they're cold till you got here?" PP asked.

SSW laughed her silent hunched over chuckle, shaking her head. "Good question."

"I think it's the Time Change," PP began. She likes to blame everything on the time change every year. This year she even rebelled. Didn't turn back her clocks for 3 days. She just HATES it when Daylight savings time ends. IT so sucks. The dark. The dark. And the dark.




"Maybe," DL nods.
"Yeah, everyone thinks it's really 10:30 instead of 9:30, so they're all at home watching Dirty Sexy Money instead of swimming," PP jokes.






True no one had been in the pool either. Which was lovely! A lane to herself. What a luxury even if the water was a bit cold. (Again, the cold water situation---the showers affect the pool? But how does the pool know the showers are cold? And why do cold showers mean a cold pool? Does the cold water run off the showers, down the drain and into the pool? Disgusting!)

And so, PP is always wondering, and tonight she wondered if it really was the time change. And then why is there a time change? And isn't Time just an artificial construct to quote her co-worker at WWU? And when she asked DL this, "How do we know that time is passing?"
DL had said, "Cuz you're not saying that anymore."
PP had to think about this for a moment and about how it was true. But then. How else do we know time is passing?

PP is always much more literal than DL, who is a poet and is always saying profound and poetic observations. So PP came up with this poem beginning with DL's profundity and ending with PP's literal soap operaness. If that's a word:


How do you know that time is passing?

You know Time is passing cuz you're not saying that anymore
You know it's passing cuz the can of cat food is empty



You know it's passing cuz your bangs are in your eyes again
You know it's passing cuz it's DARK
You know it's passing cuz your lizard neck is better
You know it's passing cuz the dove bars are all gone
You know it's passing cuz that crazy needy yin yang student just left
You know it's passing cuz you have to go to the bathroom again
You know it's passing cuz you're HUNGRY
You know it's passing cuz the water bottle is half empty
You know it's passing cuz it's goddamn standard time again
You know it's passing cuz the Election is FINALLY over
You know it's passing cuz you Eliana got eliminated from ANTM
You know it's passing cuz Reese asked Bianca to marry her on All My Children and Bianca said
YES!!!

Tango Fanstasy

Such a delicious swim in the rain at Mills super warm bed bathtub pool!(The Lovely I had said her swim was like being in a cozy bed --all warm and snug--PP hadn't heard this comment, but only second hand from JJ--yet it made sense, for most people. But for PP, the pool is so much better than bed! Bed is so problematic what with neck aches, and wrong dreams and the stupid cat waking her up 5 times a night to be let out. The pool, on the other hand, is heaven! Esp. when it's warm and she has her own lane and the little rain drops come pelting down on her cap creating tiny cold beads of sound in the warm cocoon of the water!)



Yet this isn't what she was gonna write about. Of course there's the lady with Feline Obsession Disorder who showed PP and JJ her album (No, this is no joke--she ran outside in the driving rain to retrieve her cat photos to show JJ and PP her cats in various upside down poses in her beauteous garden while PP and JJ were trying to get outta the bathroom to the tune of the obnoxious screaming swim team girls who were yelling about how they'd be right out, "Just gimme a minute, Kristy! I just gotta take a Poop and call my mom.)




Anyway, FOD woman was insane with her cat photos and PP and JJ were suitably cat polite, but this is just too much to write about right now.

No. PP really wants to write about Tango.

Prof Russian Woman Swimmer with an opinion about everything and an expert on everything was encouraging JJ to take Tango lessons after JJ mentioned that her neighbor or a friend of her neighbor or her cousin's neighbor or whatever taught Tango and wouldn't that be fun? But she needed a partner. And PP had said, "Well, isn't that why you take tango? To meet a partner?"
And then PRWS nodded and announced, "Yes. Tango is full of men. They equate Tango with the Slave Master Fantasy. And what I've found is that in this case, the Reality is Better than the Fantasy."





So, Tango. Yes. The reality is better than the Fantasy?

PP is ready for some reality like that!

Hell, her fantasy life is sorely lacking. Maybe it's time to taste a bit of this tango reality?

Can she take Tango lessons in the pool?

Now there's a Fantasy!