BFFAEAEUWD

Today, one of my 3rd grade students gave me a copy of her new book. Here's the cover:

It's an incredibly creative, funny, intelligent book, however, my moment today consisted of me scratching my head and asking myself what the heck "BFFAEAEUWD" meant. I had a pretty good idea that "BFF" meant "Best Friends Forever", but I couldn't get even close to the rest. Then I asked my co-worker who is about 8 years younger than I am. 

"Oh, it has to be 'Best Friends Forever And Ever And Ever Until We Die", she rattled off instantly. 

I had no idea that the standard "BFF" phrase had such an addendum! I am clearly out of touch with the younger generation. Maybe texting more is the answer...

Spinning a moment

I'm just going to say it. I'm really bad at spinning. Not twirling around in circles - I'm sure I would rock at that. I'm talking about those newfangled stationary biking classes that are supposed to magically burn billions of calories in a short amount of time. Maybe it's the fact that I've never quite mastered positions 1, 2, and 3 on the bike. Maybe I don't have enough of an imagination to picture climbing hills when the bike isn't actually moving. Perhaps I'm too tall for a spin bike.

Oh, yeah, and I have to confess something. Whenever the spin instructor tells me to turn the resistance knob up one full turn, I still don't know what that means. Perhaps it's due to the fact that the knob in question looks like this:

I mean, couldn't they add some numbers or something to that? Sometimes they tell me to turn it halfway. Really??

Don't worry, the moment of my day is coming. It literally WAS a moment. A moment in everyday life is fleeting. Moments fly by, and turn into hours, days, weeks, years, etc. That's one of the reasons I started this blog in the first place - to capture those moments. 

Well, in spin class today, when I just thought I couldn't take it anymore, the instructor told us we had to sprint for a full minute. "It's only a minute, guys!! You can do it! Push it out! Just a minute!" At that point, I was sweating beyond belief (thankfully, he had mercifully turned off the lights), and fully believed that I couldn't move another muscle.

I don't know if it was the peer pressure of the other spinners (they looked intense), the instructor pacing around the class, or the upbeat music, but I SPRINTED out that minute. For those 60 seconds (and I truly felt every single second), I blocked out everything else and just concentrated on continuing to move. And when it was over, I literally almost fell off my bike.

Can he say he's sorry?

Two children were arguing at school today, and I was trying to mediate. Finally, when we had gotten accounts of both sides (and one child was clearly in the wrong), that child offered an apology. The wronged child accepted the apology. I thought we were in the clear, when the child who had apologized threw a wrench in all of it.

"I said I'm sorry. Can he say he's sorry?"

I patiently asked what the other boy had to apologize for.

"Well...nothing. But I said I'm sorry. Can he say he's sorry?"

As much as this extended the awkwardness of the moment, I understood what this little boy was asking for. He had made himself vulnerable, had admitted he was wrong, and now he just wanted the same back (even though he technically didn't deserve it). It reminded me of so many adult disagreements, where we keep on asking the other person to try and take some responsibility for the situation.

The conversation then ended with each party still a bit upset. One boy was upset because he had apologized and had gotten another in return. The other boy was upset because he was being pressured to apologize for something he hadn't done. Longest moment ever. 

Conscience Clicker

I think my co-worker/office mate/best friend at work should really have her own blog. She's hilarious, and quite frequently brightens up my day in unexpected ways. Like today, for instance. She was drinking a Snapple, and told me that she was reminded of her Catholic school days...

Why, you ask? At school dances, the lids to Snapples became "conscience clickers" for the students. They would go around, and click their Snapple lids at each other if they were doing something unholy. Talk about a elaborate way to go about shaking your finger at someone! Out of all the crazy stories I have heard about Catholic schools, this one definitely takes the cake! That moment was one of utter hilarity for me. I will never look at Snapple lids in the same way again.

Any other former Catholic school students out there? Do you have any stories to top this one?

Give love

After yesterday's encounter with that belligerent gentleman in Whole Foods, I started off the day approaching this alleged City of Brotherly Love cautiously. You know, I tried not to look too many people in the eye, got out of everyone's way immediately on the sidewalk - that type of thing. Basically I didn't want to piss anyone off. But I didn't need to worry. At the end of an amazing Sati class full of positive energy, my instructor played this song:

I came out of class, feeling the love, and came across this in Rittenhouse Square:

A heart next to a trash can?? I don't know exactly how someone did this, or even if it was intentional, but it was just the sign I needed to feel that all was right with the universe. Give love, indeed!

Samples awkwardness

I'll let you in on a secret. More than half the reason I patron Whole Foods and Trader Joe's is for the food samples. I love food samples. Since I usually forget the cardinal rule, "Don't go grocery shopping when you're hungry", it's great to have something to cut the hunger so I don't go and buy dozens of chocolate bars. Of course, the only problem with this plan is that I usually end up buying the sample. Oh well. Usually, the sample stations are an oasis of calm in the otherwise hectic store. A very cheerful server will explain what's in the sample, and the customers will smile, take a moment, and enjoy their treats.

Not today, alas. Today, at Whole Foods, I was enjoying a bean/bacon/something or other (Southwestern?) mix, and another customer came up.

"Some bean/bacon/something or other mix, sir?", the server asked politely. Mind you, he wasn't actually saying something or other - I just forgot what I was eating.

"What the hell is this?" the customer demanded. The server patiently started to list all of the ingredients. He had been doing this for every customer in case there was something in there that someone couldn't eat.

"I didn't ask for a list of ingredients," the customer continued. "I just want to know what the hell you call this thing."

At that moment, a crowd had gathered around the sample station. They were looking back and forth between the angry customer and the server like they were watching a tennis match.

"I'm sorry sir," the server said politely. "It's called the Southwestern bean mix." (Or something like that.)

"Dammit!" the customer exploded. "I sure as hell don't want it NOW!" He stormed out, and everyone just stood there, awkwardly.

Finally, I stepped up, thanked him, and said I would like to purchase the sample.

Bus tales

My moment occurred today when I realized that even if people don't really know each other, or have much in common, pretty much everyone in my generation can bond over taking the bus. I'm not talking about the city buses, where you only have to spend 15 minutes max wedged into a crowd. No, I'm talking about the bus trips on Megabus, Bolt Bus, Greyhound, or the old Chinatown buses (that were shut down for safety reasons). Everyone seems to have an amazing story about that one time that the bus driver decided to pull off to the side of the road for no apparent reason, or that one seat mate who awkwardly talked to them for the entire ride. In that moment, when one person said, "I have to go catch a bus", we all shared our war stories and bus tips. We then came to a group consensus that when it comes to these discount buses, you absolutely get what you pay for.