Hate to admit it, but if you were planning on the return of a leaner, meaner Catazon at the Crude City vs. Bosses bout on May 15th, that ain’t gonna happen.

In January, I committed to 60 days of Insanity (you know, that Sean T. Beachbody workout?), so that I could fit in my rodeo jeans. Of course, I didn’t do 60 days since rodeo season kicks in around the last week of February, but I got back in the jeans and received a ton of compliments on my semi-rockin’ bod. For the past month and a half, I’ve been trying to get back on my regular Insanity routine, while my body has been slowing moving southward again, and I was almost there when a huge project landed in my lap.

I’m trying to turn this into this before the bout. Throw in a couple of family birthdays, Mother’s Day, setting up summer tutoring for The Kitten, and coordinating some home renovations, and when do I have time to workout? Maybe after I get back from my third business trip this year the third week of May?

I think the only opportunity to flex some flab over the next week will be an intro to pole dancing class on Monday, and only because I’ve already paid my $40.

Last weekend, I skated with Crude City. This bout held some significance in the fact that it was only the second time my parents have seen me skate in the five years that I’ve been derbying. My mom’s favorite hobby nowadays is photography, which is a good thing because her pics are the only ones I have of the bout. (That’s a little different from when I was skating with HRD, and captures of my crazed expressions were a dime a dozen.)

BTW, we won by like 150 points or something like that. I promised myself not to get caught up in that this time; I’m just doing it because I can, not because I’m trying to prove anything. Although it was nice to have two 18-point jams in one night.

Tonight, I’m starting on my first celebratory weekend. It won’t be as good as last year’s first weekend, but I get to see one of my favorite bands with my favorite sister (okay, my one and only sister, but she’s bad-ass like me). Then, tomorrow night, I get to scout out the team I’ll be skating against next month.

Good friends, good music, good hits for bad bitches….awww yeah!

I’m not going to dwell on the fact that I’m socially inept at gift-giving. I can usually disguise it by showing up with a bottle of Patron everywhere I go, but it gets harder to hide that major personality flaw around the holidays. The Kitten, (most of) the nieces and nephews, and the in-laws aren’t really interested in getting drunk and naked, you know.

What I am going to harp on is that fact that it’s socially acceptable to maintain a wishlist nowadays. Get your butt online and start one. Check out this helpful post on Lifehacker for some top wishlist tools. A wishlist not only makes life easier for your socially-inept loved ones, it also organizes your own thoughts. I would never be able to keep track of what The Kitten wants for Christmas if I didn’t rush to Amazon everytime her eyes widen.

By the way, if you haven’t been using a reader to follow interesting blogs like Lifehacker, you really are living in the dark ages. Haven’t you heard that blogs are dying a slow, painful death? Oh, wait, that’s just mine.

Last Monday, I floated the Comal River like a rookie. Maybe it was because it was The Kitten’s first time to float the river, and I was a little nervous, hoping she would love tubing as much as I do. Maybe it was a bit of showing off in front of my cousins on my dad’s side who all are younger than me. Maybe it was way too much cider. But anyway, I fried my legs for the first time in twenty years. And not just fried all over…burned in a candy-cane pattern. Yes, I have red and white diagonal stripes up and down the fronts of my legs. Lovely!

Still, my candy-cane legs can’t top the marks I received from skating the Pride Parade Saturday night. Before the parade even started, I hit a car. Poor car! It was just minding its own business, and I came along and tripped into it. It was too dark to see how bad my Catazonianess damaged it, but the bruise on my upper arm says there might have been a dent in the passenger door. The bruise is even bigger than the one when I fell in the clothes hamper, which you can actually see in the picture on my Blogger profile. Nice!

By the way, I’m waiting to see pictures from that night, so if you have any of the roller derby girls rolling down Westheimer, either on wheels or on the ground wrastling, put ‘em out there! And thanks, Rushin’ Cleavage, for such an enjoyable evening.

I didn’t think the week could get any better than once again getting the crap beat out of me by stationary objects, but then I went to a Roger Creager concert yesterday evening, right smack-dab in the middle of what I like to think of as my old ‘hood (Oak Forest), and I know it’s hard to believe that only about 75-100 people would brave the heat wave from hell to see him at such a great venue (a little league ballfield), but the few, the brave, the crazy were rewarded with a free beer from Roger himself. Awesome.

My plans for the official beginning of the summer season, Memorial Day Weekend:

1. Act a fool at my sister’s 3rd Annual Karaoke Birthday Bash on Friday night.
2. Finally get a haircut after at least nine months of hippie hair (can’t really remember the last one).
3. Finally buy some new tennies now that the ones I bought on the way to the 2006 HRD championship bout when I could only wear one of them are making a weird clicky noise when I walk the streets at lunchtime.
4. Be jealous of everyone on the river while I play on The Kitten’s slip and slide.

I love summertime! I’m sure I’ll think of more fun summertime things to do over the next four days, but that’s a good start. Who knows…the last three might kill me, or at least just make me die a little bit inside.

The Kitten and Sparkly

Originally uploaded by Catazon.

The Kitten and Sparkly are celebrating. You can’t see it, but she is decked out in brand new bootcut jeans and a belt with crosses and hearts outlined in rhinestones, and she’s still wearing the boots she inherited from her cousin a couple of years ago. I’m celebrating, too, although I will stand by my practice of no pictures, please. It might get kinda crazy since I’m hanging out with my sister at the cookoff.

The 2009 Show has begun. I spent most of the weekend at Reliant Park…the Membership Dance Friday night, drink inventory on Saturday morning, and the equipment setup from hell on Sunday. After all that, I didn’t feel very guilty while celebrating Mardi Gras at Willie’s last night…listening to a good band, eating fried pickles, and drinking too many margaritas.

The goal was to get the taxes done before March, but I also promised to buy The Kitten some western jeans for Go Texan Day on Friday. If she’s anything like me (and she is), we will visit all the Cavender’s in town to find some jeans that fit. Sounds like a fun week, one which will end with my attempt to attend the largest cookoff in the world not only on Saturday night when the main group of friends will be at our regular stomping grounds but Friday as well so I can see and be seen. It all boils down to whether we trust a houseful of cousins alone.

Tomorrow at lunch, the city is staging an event called the Rodeo Roundup. Now that I work downtown, I get to check it out. No work meetings on my schedule yet, so I will most likely disappear for the whole two hours. One of the perks of having a boss half a country away. Then the parade is Saturday morning, and unless The Kitten changes her mind, we will be there, too. I already posted my rodeo work schedule, so I guess that means I’ll see everyone in April (unless you read my Facebook and Twitter updates, of course).

My daughter’s name is not The Kitten. It’s really Sydney. Since she was born, we have called her Sydney Bean…and every other variation of Bean. Beanie Baby, Beanie Weenie, Beana, whatever… Our whole extended family calls her Bean.

Last night, The Kitten asks, “What’s my middle name?” I say, “You know your middle name. What is it?”

“Bean?”

“No, your middle name is Marie!”, I reply with a big smile.

She puts her hands on her head and exasperatedly says, “I can’t believe I told Aidan my middle name is Bean!”

Too cute! Although, I think she *really* likes Aidan, so it might have been a bit embarrassing for her. Good to know I’m already doing my duty as a parent.

So I’m over halfway through with this cardiovascular health kick, except the thing is I’ll never be through with it. Yesterday, the food served at the family birthday gathering was fried fish, fried chicken, and tater tots. Blegh. Even before the health kick, I would not let any of these things near my mouth, so lucky for me, there was also a green salad. And get this…the salad bowl was the only thing even close to being empty…and no, it wasn’t only me eating it. I was also able to bypass the German chocolate cake…a true feat, because I do love coconut but most likely will never knowingly let that artery-clogging mess into my stomach again. Too sad, but totally worth it…

Meanwhile, my marriage grows slightly weirder with my husband doing the complaining about being fat. He still refuses to listen to me about anything, so he finally outweighs me for realz!!! Woohoo! Ladies, if you get the chance to experience how annoying your significant other can be saying how they need to lose weight but doing nothing about it, you would never complain about how fat you are again.

Catazon’s Week 7 of the Cardiovascular Health Program:
Weight = 187.2
Anxiety Level = 5 (I’ve got no motivation, and I stress about no motivation.)

I have been a big fan of rodeoing for many years, which is really strange since I’m not a big fan of cows or horses. I guess I admire the extreme sport aspect of it all. Understandable. Then I saw an extended family member compete in the calf scramble last night.

My husband’s cousin’s son (what is that? like once removed or something? maybe I should use my skills and look that up?) enters a cow into the livestock show every year, but this year, he had a chance to win a calf he could bring back to show next year. He lined up about a half a foot shorter than the sixteen other boys and eleven girls, but he looked strong out of the gate. Within seconds, he tackled a calf, but the calf flipped around and took off. All the while, I’m jumping up and down, screaming, and trying to keep The Kitten informed on what was actually happening. It was the most exciting thing I have ever seen at a rodeo!

Our cousin kept running until the last calf was caught, and even though he wasn’t one of the fourteen who caught a calf, he’s still a winner to us. It made me even that much prouder to be a part of something that does good things for so many kids. Maybe that’s the real reason why I’m such a big fan.