Monday, May 30, 2011

#63 - Read One Book Per Month (May)

The month of May's book is on a topic dear to my heart.  "The Art of Conversation" is Catherine Blyth's first book published by John Murray (UK) in 2009.  It is a "rallying cry for this neglected yet vital pleasure, it offers a guided tour of the secrets and surprises, as well as tips for doing better."

Good conversation and communication is often at the forefront of my mind, with consideration directed towards improvement thereof.  I read a quote somewhere recently which said "conversation does not get any more interesting the older you get."  Perhaps not the most pithy quote I've read but it certainly resonates familiarity.  The point is we seem to be stuck.

The opening sentences of Blyth's book read: "We need to talk.  When did this become a threat rather than a statement of fact?"  

Whenever I get my hands on books which explore topics, I often take to it with a highlighter, so that the deep and meaning epiphanies can be easily spotted on a boring or rainy Sunday afternoon stuck at home with nothing to do but graze through favourites in my bookcase, scanning for all the highlighted epiphanies.  In place of doing a book review as it were I will let Blyth's words speak for themselves by sharing some of the more moving and 'Yes! Exactly!' and 'Brilliant!' moments within 'The Art of Conversation'.

"We have to ask ourselves why the internet is so good for wankers, gamblers and shoppers, and not so good for citizens and communities."

"Isolation magnifies disconnect and disenchantment.  Many more of us live alone, bombarded by images of lifestyles to dream of, all of which feeds a sense of existence as a performance that we're failing at.  Television scarcely features sociable conversation, because disagreement, like horrifying news stories, makes better drama."

"Out and about, face to face, even in innocuous situations, growing numbers of us seem so scared of saying the wrong thing that we say nothing.  We think we're shy.  We don't realise how arrogant, selfish and idle we seem."

"Computers and their ancillaries are evolving exponentially faster than we human animals, supplanting our creature comforts, yet in no way altering our Stone Age emotional or social needs."

"Conversation is not a performance."

"We can easily fold more of it (conversation) into our life, and it's imperative that we try, not just for ourselves.  The tide against conversation has a powerful undertow." 

"We are lonesome animals.  We spend all of our life trying to be less lonesome.  One of our ancient methods is to tell a story begging the listener to say - and to feel  'Yes, that is the way it is, or at least that is the way I feel it'"

"If words may be misread, the trouble with silence is it's nothing if not ambivalent.  Since it requires discipline, it has long reflected power, and been affiliated with both good and evil.  While the Roman goddess Isis vanquished 'the lamentable silences of hell', to Quakers and Buddhists freedom from the word brings higher consciousness.  Howeever, these days the negative view is in the ascendant."

"But when did speech cease to be a freedom and become compulsory?"

"In individualist society, if self-promotion seems nigh on compulsory, those who don't play the game may seem above it all, and above us."

"Are silent people a danger to society?  The unconfident ones are, according to research which finds that lonely people fear silence most, with anxiety about how to fill it, or seeming needy, compounding the problem by cramping their conversational style: too scared to ask questions, offer opinions, their introverted habits of speech pretty much guarantee more silence."

"Rather than let silence get the better of you, appreciate the virtue in its flexibility: a communication tool that's as versatile as the queen in chess."
"Few of us are aware that silence enhances intelligence.  A 1970s 'wait-time' study in American schools found that if teachers gave students just a few extra seconds to answer questions, their responses and engagement greatly improved, as did their year-end examination results.  In part this is because the longer a pause lasts, the more meanings germinate in speculative minds; like the lull before a joke's punchline, it deepens reflection."

"...in the collective craft of conversation we trade perceptions and ideas: a wondrous capacity that has enabled us to transform each others' views, and with them, the world."

"If having nothing to say is bad too much is possibly worse."

"...tedium today is mass-produced by leisure, be there nothing to do, or so much choice none seems worthwhile.  The latter is commonly diagnosed as an illness, 'options paralysis' and privileged Westerners seem to be suffering an ennui epidemic..."

"...capacity for being bored, rather than man's social or natural needs, lies at the root of cultural advance."

"Sadly, listening talent is on the wane, with patience in dwindling supply.  So if your listener looks tired, or your Guinness is still brimming, its foam flat, and everyone else's gass half empty, shut up."

"...to be bored or boring isn't affable.  Often it is the bored person's fault: a failure to engage with the other person's point of view."

"There are few persons from whom you cannot learn something, and... everything is worth knowing."

A conversation is, or at least should be, similar to a tennis match, going back and forth equally.  One person serves, you hit the ball back over the net, the server responds, the ball is in your court, you hit it over, again its returned and so on and so forth.  If you are particularly verbose and seem to want to dominate conversation, then be aware that 50% of the participation rate of any conversation is listening.  Every person has an opinion and something to say and there seems to be, at least in Western societies an emphatic compulsion to talk.  How about listening?  How about a book called 'The Art of Listening: Just Shut The F*#k Up and Let Somebody Else Talk".

 

Sunday, May 29, 2011

#83 - Consult A Psychic

Kudos to Troy Doolan for suggesting this one, although I admit this is not my first consultation with a psychic.  At times, people I've either known well or briefly have found equanimity and solace, aiding the cessation of their malaise with which they viewed their life, through the assistance of a clairvoyant.  Astounded by the accuracy of said clairvoyant / tarot card / tea leaf reader / wacko, I have been known to roll caution up into a tight spherical shape, propell it overarm towards the wind and insist I have the contact details of so and so with a general awareness of possible impending chicanery I might be voluntarily subjecting myself to.  Nonetheless, with question-a-plenty and money in hand I proceed.

Modern psychics have, like a lot of businesses, a web presence.  I googled 'psychic brisbane' and found a number of services with prices ranging from $60 - $150 / hour.   I read all about their 'abilities' from being able to talk to those who have passed on - err, that's psychic speak for 'dead folks' to aura reading - err, that's psychic speak for bad and blurry photographs of head shots.  In the end I settled on an advertisement on Facebook for Vicki Button psychic for silly reasons, such as her website was simple and provided satisfactory information regarding services without waffling on, she's only charging $30 for a reading and in her photo she looks like the 5th member of ABBA.  There's also a link to 'spooky photos' which are undeniably poxy but good for a laugh.


Vicki requested I emailed her a photo of myself and believe you me I was tempted to fool around with this one.  How much fun would it have been to email this little beauty and see what sort of a future I get in response?




Or this one?




 and, my personal favourite...




  
As fun as that would have been I'm certain Vicki would not have been impressed, so I sent her a recent self portrait.  To her credit, Vicki emailed me promptly informing that she had received remuneration and would be in touch within 48 hours with my reading.  

Sure enough, within 48 hours Vicki's reading reached my inbox and I discerningly devoured it both with delight and discretion.

To summarise key points, in her reading Vicki says:
  • I have psychic ability.  I knew she was going to say that
  • I should be working in an area using my management skills and that I am a good organiser.  She hasn't seen my kitchen pantry
  • My true talents aren't being utilised.  That explains my kitchen pantry
  • Vicki sees a change in residence and that I will move twice.  I am not bloody moving.  I hate moving.  I am going to die here.  Next!
  • Quote: "I feel there is something about a works programme.  I feel you will be put in charge of this and I see a school so feel there could be some study ahead, or learning of something new."  I do work for the Department of Education and Training... hmmm..
  • Vicki says she seems me with a partner (hello, yes please!) who does similar work to me.  "I feel you meet during working hours because you are in the same field or same area..." Well, that's interesting...
  • Apparently I am stepping out of my comfort zone and challenge myself.  I have the ability (to do what? Vague, Vicki... vague) and there is a lot of red in my aura, which is the colour of passion.  
  • Vicki also says: "I feel you don't feel yourself that you deserve things in your life.  It's like the moment everything good is in your life, you will expect it to all turn pear shaped."  And then offers some words of wisdom - seemingly straight from Rhonda Byrne's 'The Secret' - on ways to turn this around.  In all honesty I'm not adverse to advice or instruction about being more positive 
I read a quote recently which said: talk to a man (woman) about himself (herself) and you'll have the most attentive and captivated audience you've ever had.  People love to talk about themselves and they love to hear about themselves.  A revelation dawned on my this week regarding psychics.  You pay them to tell you all about your favourite subject...  You.  No wonder more than a few of us are willing to part with our money for a brief moment of being the centre of attention, albeit with the promise of insight into your own psyche.  And hey, for a paltry $30 why not do it once?? 

My skepticism about psychics is that they are amenable to no one.  Really, even with their money refund policies that some of them offered.  Interesting to note, an ex-colleague of mine, a former police officer attended a Psychic Fair / Exhibition at the Brisbane Convention Centre once and said that she recognised 5 'clairvoyants' working there on that particular day as convicted criminals.   Well if they get sent to the slammer they can't feign surprise... they should have seen it coming.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

#1 - Talk To A Stranger At A Set Of Traffic Lights

Have you ever pondered the history of a deck of cards?  How about try and explain it to a child?  This was the futile situation I found myself in one afternoon this week. 

I admit I have a predilection towards children.  Their wide-eyed wonder of things we take for granted and natural ability to quell any self consciousness are reflective of a spirit we, as adults should take some time to re-discover, leaving behind, if only momentarily our propensity to follow rules. 

As fond of children as I am, instigating conversational banter with young'ns of today is not something I'm usually inclined towards.  Nor did the talking take place, as the name suggests At A Set Of Traffic Lights.  However, before you purists unleash a harangue regarding pedantry (or lack thereof) the objective of #1 - Talk To A Stranger At A Set Of Traffic Lights essentially was to engage in an improvised, spontaneous chin wag with a randomly generated member of the public. 

The young man in question, 4 and a half years old as I learned as our conversation progressed,  we'll call him "Brock", befriended me on the train one afternoon immediately striking up a powwow, sans polite chit chat about the weather and / or introductions.  His opening line?  "Have you got any games on your phone??" 

Up until recently I didn't know mega bytes from giga bytes but an over-priced invoice from my internet service provider quickly sorted that out.  The financial cost of ignorance, born from over indulging in downloading this and that prompted this entry into urbandictionary.com: Killer Byte - the ignorant overuse of your allocated gigabyte expenditure resulting in a ludicruously high monthly charge, thus killing any plans for otherwise disposable income. Killer Byte.  What I'm trying to say is that until recently, much to some people's horror I hadn't an iPod and hadn't downloaded a song. 

He's insistant about the game.  "I've got one game on my phone," I tell him and next thing he's cajoling me with his cuteness.  Immediately I feel myself blushing as the people in the seats nearby and his mother watch the scene unfold like origami.  Embarrassed that I have an audience I show him Solitaire and begin to explain the rules.

As I explain the alternating of red, black, red, black in descending order - that bit we can do, Brock is proficient in numbers it seems - I'm finding it difficult to find an answer to "but why?" without resorting to "because that's the rule." 

"What's that flower?" he asks, pointing to the club. 
"That's a club" I answered.
"What's a club?"  At predictable yet reasonable inquiry.  My immediate visual definition is of a weapon, a hitting instrument, to club one over the head with.  Err...discussions with the youngster regarding violence is not a good idea and somehow the conversation deviates.  Phew.

Imagine if at that point I showed him a pack of real cards, explaining that they were the same thing and that a tangible pack of cards existed before card games on phones.  Imagine the confused looks as I try to explain and how the discussion would divert to who invented cards, where diamonds come from, what kings and queens are and the unconvincing notion that Jack in the pack of cards is not the same Jack as your best friend at day care.

By now our Solitaire game has ended and the train pulls into the station.  It turns out this is Brock's stop as well and he and his mother and I exit the train together.  We introduce ourselves.  She's Nicola, I'm Nicole and we walk and talk about this and that.  Brock tried to hold my hand and although I didn't pull away I suspect he changed his mind as he then grabbed his mother's hand.  It was a fair decision.  Nicola tells me that Brock is quite social and occasionally picks people to chat with but not everyone.  I feel special that I was one of The Chosen Ones.

We're walking home in the same direction, stopping outside the units where I live and Brock asks "do you have children?"  I disappoint him with my reply, "no".  Nicola says that he's trying to make new friends.  I suspect later that they might be new to the suburb and regret I probably missed an opportunity to welcome someone and make two new friends. Perhaps we will meet again some day on the train or at the bakery.  But for now I head home with a warm, fuzzy feeling having spent some time with a delightful, bright young boy and a mission to google the history of playing cards.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

#56 - Do A Bunnings DIY Weekend Workshop

I arrive at Bunnings Warehouse, Stafford and the smell of sausage sizzle immediately wafts over as I open the car door.  It's the red carpet arrival for suburban bogans who love to spend Saturday mornings at Bunnings Warehouse.  Even as a recently vegetarian-turned-vegan I can still appreciate and indulge lustfully on the scent of a bar-b-cue. 

I'm right on time for the 11:00am DIY workshop and am warmly greeted by Roger.  We wait until 11:05am but there are no additional participants.  There are 5 of us in the group: a 60-something retired couple, 2x teachers (note to self do NOT tell them you work at the Department of Education should the opportunity of chit chat present itself) and; yours truly.  Roger commences the workshop with a confessin that he is more of a nuts, bolts and carpentry kind of a bloke however he knows vegie gardening basics and will take us to see the crew at the garden centre shortly.

Roger covers Vegie Gardening 101:
  • don't plant your vegie garden near any large or competing trees
  • water the seeds well for the first few weeks
  • when established, give the vegies a good soaking once a week rather than a light sprinkle daily
  • if in doubt, read the back of the seed packet.  Yates have a very informative website
  • at this time of year you can plant: lettuce, onion, peas, leeks, beetroot, silverbeet, cabbage, asparagus, snow peas, tomato, carrot, cauliflower and strawberries to name but a lot!
Roger takes us to the garden centre and on the way a fellow employee looking astounded stops to excitedly ask Roger if he saw the customer with a parrot on her shoulder.  I chime in with "a bird with a bird!" however my quip is lost on her.  Roger gets it though and I follow up with a remark about a possible new fashion trend.  Roger dryly adds "yeah...the pirate look".  Roger surprises even himself and I laugh genuinely, sincerely.  His punchline was delivered with impeccable comical timing.

We arrive at the garden centre and are introduced to Debbie.  She has a nice English accent.  Not like the Queen but not like Eastenders either.  Somewhere inbetween the two extremes.  Debbie establishes herself as a veritable pundit right from the start, fielding our curiosities and answering each question with sound advice.  

I learned the following:
  • the time to plan winter vegies is now or even 2 weeks ago at the start of May
  • Debbie's daughters once participated in a pumpkin growing competition and used ullage collected from local pubs as an effective fertiliser
  • potatoes in suburban yards are best grown in old dust bins to prevent them from taking over the entire garden
  • herbs can be picked from the garden, frozen in a snap lock bag and used in stews, casseroles at a later date
  • take most of the old soil out of the garden at the end of the growing season to prevent insects and bugs setting up camp and possibly contaminating the soil and eating all your vegies next season.
We end the DIY session with a little tour of the herbs and vegie seedlings on sale at Bunnings.

After the workshop I decide to linger and take a self-guided tour of the warehouse.  I catch the eye of a bearded employee a little younger than myself.  It's not a bogan beard but a new beard; hip, alternative, trendy.  Hip Alternative Beard says "hello" and smiles as he passes by with a hint of a flirtatious twinkle in his eye much to my pleasure.

I amble around Bunnings for a bit, meandering from timber and wood to self tapping screws, polycarbonate sheeting to drainage pits and note that the stock gets more and more boring the closer you get to the building supplies aisle.  I move from the plastic storage boxes because something catches my eye in the bathroom / plumbing section.  I'm hypnotised by the extensive range of taps.  I also notice that the speakers in this particular section of Bunnings have more clarity and volume than over by the bucket and mop aisle and I bop along to Stevie Wonder's "Part Time Lover".  

I'm exhausted at the thought of having to decide between the wide selection of taps and then I remember... I'm not renovating.  My thoughts about exhausting non-existent bathroom projects are interrupted by a friendly "can I help you there?"  It's Hip Alternative Beard. 
 
"No thanks. " I reply, smiling.  "I'm just enjoying this song".  
Hip Alternative laughs.  "Stevie Wonder yeah?"
"Yep.  Stevie Wonder rocks".  
Hip Alternate laughs again and says "well I'll leave you to it" and smiles.  For a split second I see the twinkle in his eye again and I enjoy the brief dalliance.  Could I date a guy who works at Bunnings, I wonder to myself?  Yeah, sure.  Why not? 

Walking around Bunnings I notice that the section with the highest women-to-men ratio is the paint section.  Otherwise the joint is jumping with the Male of the Species and I make a mental note that Bunnings could be one of many establishments where a young lady could meet a potential suitor.  Who needs RSVP.com when you've got Bunnings?  You could pick up some wood the next time you pick up wood!

#53 - Wave at Strangers

I have this awesome game I play in the car called 'Hey Robert'.  Firstly it requires at least one passenger because fun is better when shared with others.  Here are the rules of play:
  1. The first rule of 'Hey Robert' is you do talk about 'Hey Robert';
  2. The second rule of 'Hey Robert' is you DO absolutely, definitely talk about 'Hey Robert';
  3. Source said passenger.  Passenger must be of sound mind and have a fun and carefree disposition;
  4. Drive somewhere you know there will be pedestrians;
  5. Wind your car window down;
  6. Wave convincingly at a pedestrian (must be of male persuasion) smile widely and yell 'Hey Robert!' as though he is indeed Robert and is your long lost best friend; and
  7. If this is your first time playing 'Hey Robert' then you have to yell 'Hey Robert'.
Hey Robert works better if you continue to smile warmly and wave enthusiastically.  Better still if you have stopped at a red traffic light and you Hey Robert someone, following up with "Good work with the presentation this morning. Margaret was really impressed.  It looks as though we'll win the tender...see you at squash tomorrow!"

That's one way to wave at strangers.


I waved at one stranger this week.  I was walking with my friend, going out to lunch at work when someone he knew and worked with walked past us.  He waved, smiled and said "hello Leah".  Leah waved, smiled and said "hello".  So I waved and smiled back at Leah and said "hello".  Leah waved, smiled, laughed and said "hello".  Leah is the administration officer that my friend works with and he comments that without her, the place would fall apart.  I agree that admin officers, good ones, are the glue that hold work places together.  I couldn't find a national "Administration Officer Appreciation Day" but I am aware there is something similar for secretaries.


So the next time you are in your car, think of your old pal Robert or say hello to the admin / reception officer or someone at work whom you've never been introduced to.  Smile and say hello for it appears to be contagious. 

# 80 - Buy Some Tupperware; and #81 - Use Aforementioned Tupperware For Its Intended Purpose

Until recently I used to bring my lunch to work in disposable, plastic take-away containers from the local Indian or Thai joints which I saved and re-used.  I’d fill them up with lunch, seal the lid, wrap them in a tea towel with a rubber band around it, chuck it inside a plastic bag, tie a knot in the plastic bag and then put that inside another plastic bag with a rubber band around it and still sometimes my lunch would leak.

Some people at work have lunchboxes to be envious of, what with their matching cutlery and cooler bag.  They have Tupperware.  Once up on a time I snubbed Tupperware, dismissing it as for old hags and expensive.  However my frustration at the time-and-again failure of my tea towel / rubberband / plastic bag system was unnerving.  I needed better security for my curries, salads and soups.  What I really needed was a tight seal. 

One never need look too far for Tupperware.  Rest assured that in every large workplace, particularly the office environment there will be at least one Tupperware and one Avon distributor.  Guaranteed.  Usually they are middle-aged and matronly.  You’ll never work with them directly and they won’t be anybody you know.  They’ll work on another floor somewhere and the phone number they’ve left on the bolognaise stained catalogue in the communal kitchen with its “no fairies live here, clean your own dishes.  THIS MEANS YOU!” signs plastered above the sink, is eventually answered by someone who has never heard of Kym.  Or Joan or Dianne or whoever is selling the Tupperware in question. 

That’s why ebay was invented.  For all those unanswered phone calls, all those people unhappy with the mediocre excuse for rudeness palmed off as ‘customer service’ and all those people trying to sell their unwanted stuff.  Stuff they bought with good intentions of actually using but discovered it wasn’t quite what they thought, they didn’t read the fine print or the novelty wore off after one or two uses and their New Year’s resolution faded.

Tupperware has evolved.  

I pored over catalogues and I searched the Tupperware website.  I awoke in the middle of the night and my first thought was of Tupperware.  I had a problem.  I had to decide.  What then to do when faced with a tough decision?  Ignore it of course and hope it goes away.


I wanted Tupperware, I needed it for the sake of my lunch.  At the same time I noticed my flimsy backpack starting to fail and it would just be my luck that on the way from the gym to the train station after an intensive workout, a sweaty bra would escape from my ageing backpack and fall to the footpath in the midst of peak hour foot traffic.  Perhaps a well intended sister would hand it back to me gently saying, 'I think this might be yours dear' in full view of a hundred other people waiting to cross the lights, all staring at me as I stuff the offending lingerie into my bag.

That's when I saw this:  Totally Active by Tupperware.  An everyday bowl, 2x serving cups, 2x shampoo / conditioner travel bottles, 1x 750mL water bottle, a microfibre towel (I thought microfibre was only for cheap trousers from Lowes and lens cleaning cloth) and a sports bag which, as it turns out is bigger - not smaller as is often the rule rather than the exception - than it appears in the picture. 

Although totally satisfied with the purchase and using it every day, whenever I think of Tupperware I always remember a photo in a gossip magazine featuring Tori Spelling of 1990s tv series Beverley Hills 90210 post-breast augmentation with the caption "put your hands in the air if your boobs are made of Tupperware". 

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

#71 - Do a Meditation Course

The Australian School of Meditation and Yoga (ASOMAY) is the same place where I attended the Spiritual Church a few Sundays ago in April.  See: http://biodegradablewoman.blogspot.com/2011/04/72-go-to-spiritual-church.html

The school offers a free 2 part meditation course run over consecutive Monday nights from 7-8:30pm.

On my first night I arrived ten minutes early.  The room was set up for about 30 people, with brightly coloured cushions made of sequened Indian cotton, purple Yoga mats and bolster pillows provided for each participant.  Peaceful music, dimmed lighting and incense filled the air.  As I took my place more people started arriving and it dawned on me that every one of these people are in a position right now in their lives where they think meditation could be the answer.  At the very least everyone in that room was curious about meditation and its benefits.

The instructor, Simon, a volunteer at the ASOMAY, is softly spoken, friendly and welcoming.  The class begins at 7pm but people are still arriving at 7:15 after the course has already commenced.  I look at them and think to myself how rude it is to show up late, recognising immediately that I am labelling and judging them.  Is that in itself an indication that perhaps meditation is much needed in my own life?  Possibly.  I give myself one point for my self awareness in this particular instance. 

It reminds me of one of my first Yoga classes a year and a bit ago when, about ten minutes in, this noisy lady arrives.  Late.  Noisy Lady rushes across the room to get a Yoga mat, dumps her bag rustling car keys in the process, kicks her shoes off, flicks out her Yoga mat as though she's making the bed right next to yours truly.  Noisy Lady proceeds to take loud, distracting deep breaths in and out her nose for the entire class.  All throughout the class I am yelling at her (in my head) WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?  WHAT'S WITH THE NOISY BREATHING LADY???!!!! 

Simon guides us through 5 different types of meditation over the 2 sessions.  I particularly like Nadi Shota Pranayam, otherwise known as alternate nostril breathing.  It is said to improve the connection between the left and right brain hemispheres.  Interestingly, we don't breathe equally through each nostril all the time.  For information and instructions on the technique, click here.

There is also evidence to support the theory that meditation may slow the ageing process by affecting the production of important anti-ageing hormones.  For more information and for some practical (and impractical) tips on how to incorporate meditation into daily life, visit www.bodyandsoul.com.au 

Since the meditation course three weeks ago I have been setting aside 5-10 minutes usually every day for meditation.  I definitely see some benefits already from doing so.  The relaxing, floating feeling stays with me for a good ten to fifteen minutes afterwards.  I can also see evidence of increased focus and concentration and a decrease in physical and emotional tension.  It is also completely FREE!!  Meditation is said to provide a range of benefits.  Check here to see a list of 100 said benefits.

We finish the 2nd class with a singing chant while Simon plays some simple chords on an acoustic guitar (Em, G, D, C) and we sing 'chaitanya nityananda gaurhari'.  At least the ones who can pronounce it do.  I quiz Simon at the end as to what chaitanya nityananda gaurhari actually means.  I am told: chaitanya means 'life force', nityananda 'eternaly blissful' and gaurhari loosely translates to 'supreme being'.  Life force eternally blissful supreme being.  Life force eternally blissful supreme being.  Air force eternally piss-full supreme pizza.  May the force be with you!

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

#40 - Do a Bootcamp

Fancy those images of fit people doing hardcore exercise with their perfect bodies, their perfect smiles, their perfect Lorna Jane outfits, laughing as though they're actually enjoying it with not a hair out of place?  No?  Neither do I.  Personally I prefer to do my exercise in an old t-shirt, a pair of faded shorts and shitty sneakers.  This was not the case with the particular boot camp I selected for my month-long torture.  As part of our package - $275 for 4 weeks of one hour long boxing / boot camp sessions 3 times per week - we received a singlet with the boxing studio's name and contact details plastered all over it.  A walking, sweaty, smelly advertisement.  Please note that the first week of boot camp coincided with #82 on my list, Do Not Say a Single Swear Word for a Week hence my deluge of 'shits' later in that particular week.

Boot camp popularity has soared in recent years.  Perhaps the thought of doing strenuous gut-busting exercise to the sound track of some hardened, tougher-than-nails ex-boxer type with a crew cut, croaky voice and biceps bigger than your mum whilst yelling in your face seems appealing.  At least that's the perception.  The particular boot camp I chose was scheduled for 6:30 - 7:30am Monday, Wednesday and Friday with 3 different instructors and 3 different styles of training.  They worked us hard, we pushed ourselves through the pain and at the end of each session we all felt pretty chuffed that we survived.

Am I fitter?  You bet!  Did I enjoy the boot camp?  Overall, yes.  Did I lose any weight?  Are you kidding??  OF COURSE I DIDN'T!!!  Exercise provides the perfect excuse to justify mid-morning muffins, desserts after dinner and Sundaes on a Sunday.

I must say I surprised myself by training harder, longer and more enthusiastically than what I have before and I'm sure the other boot camp participants did as well.  We trained in the rain for about 5 of the sessions, got muddy and soaked right through.  There was zero sympathy from our trainers and my shitty sneakers are now even shittier than ever before.