Here's a tip...

If you wear your workout pants backwards, don't be embarrassed. Don't call it an accident. Just enjoy the fact that the waistband rests comfortably above your belly roll instead of comfortably over your behind! A win win!

You learn something new every day.

Today, I learned the second half of an old idiom, that I had never, not once, heard before!

Run it up the flagpole, and see if anyone salutes.

How did I not know this!?

I can read his mind.

John wakes me up the other morning, after his workout, while I'm lingering in the dark, pretending I can sleep another hour - but I only have five more minutes.

"Baby, guess what!?" he says with utter glee. "Today is best day of all the days, since we have been together, can you guess what has happened?"

"Mmmm. It's snowing?" I slightly slur, with a sleepy voice.

"Nope, baby, it's not snowing. It's something that's never happened."

"Ummm, David Bowie has a new album out?"

"Yes! David Bowie has a new album out! Yes! Today is his birthday! 14 tracks! It's coming out in March!"

And while I'm delighted that his musical idol is releasing a new album - is it Bowie's 29th or 30th, I shall let you debate that with him - I'm even more delighted that even in my near-sleep, I can pick up on the unique energy of his voice, his posture, his psychic messages and learn stuff like this. Ah, mawwiage. This is one of the cool parts!

A new year, a new you.

I initiate resolutions all year long - on my birthday, when the seasons change, on the first of any month, after a terrible hangover. But new year's resolutions are, without a doubt, the best ones. My favorites. And I let them roll on in the first couple weeks of the year; I'm not a stickler for exact start dates and nor am I all-or-nothing about perfect attendance. Once again, I am certain I will floss every day in 2013. So far, 3 days down!

But the other, current two resolutions are a bit different than in years past. First, I'm on a Facebook diet. A fast, actually. I deactivated my profile until January 31; then, I'll decide what I want to do with the site, and how. I'm enjoying the freedom from it so far but it has been (probably not that) shocking to see how often I open a tab to check it.

Second, at the advice of a new wonderful friend, I thought all last week about my word for 2013. This is the word that I'll keep reminding myself of when I'm faced with a decision - big or small - or experiencing that daily uptick in stress, the rising feeling of being overwhelmed by all the things I should do - next - now - quickly - perfectly - !

And the word is: grounding.

Webster's defines that as basic training or instruction in a subject. My subject is life - better living - and better living today, not on some far-off other day. For 2013, then, I ask: what would be the most grounding thing I can do in this moment? What decision will be most in line with the open, loving, connected and in-awe life I want to live, and want to look back on living when the end comes? That is the decision I'll make, each time - and I've already used it twenty times in less than five days! This is going to be a year of rewarding grounding. And you?

What's your word for this year?

That settles it.

When you're wearing something you're not really sure about, style-wise, and then someone whose style you abhor sees you and immediately blurts out, "Cute skirt!!" you know it's time for it to go to the clothes swap. Decision: made.

Play It Again, Sam

So the Groupon that led me to the hip-hop class a few posts down led me, tonight, in even deeper. It led me into a Tease N Tone class. Known by some as stripperobics. Imagine Pussycat Dolls style moves - mostly MTV dancin' with a tiny bit of burlesque thrown in.

The class was 30 minutes of cardio - tough cardio - followed by 30 minutes of learning less than a minute of a choreographed dance, 8-count by 8-count, just like in the dance classes you took as a kid.

As we counted in, over and over, on the intro of the hip-hop song, the singer announced herself as the beats ramped up. "Nicki. Minaj." in a bad-ass voice, followed by the announcement of her guest singer, "JUUUUUUUUSTIIIIIIIN!"

Three, four, five times. As we learned each new chunk of counts, 4 or 8, I was thinking, when is Justin Timberlake going to start singing? Nicki keeps announcing him.

Oops. You guessed it.

Justin Bieber.

(im)Maturity

Is it a sign of maturity or immaturity when in the middle of making a mistake or acting in a way you know you will regret, you recognize it - immediately?

It doesn't happen later... it happens exactly as the words are coming out of your mouth. Precisely when you're standing there quietly, and failing to ask for what you want and is completely reasonable.

This little, tiny, tinny, scratchy voice inside whispers, "It's OK to stop talking about this and abruptly change the subject. Couldn't be more awkward than it already is!" Or, "It's OK to ask for one of those to yourself - it wasn't assumed you would even share in the first place, so don't be forced to. Just ask."

Maybe someday, when I'm all growed up like a big kid, I'll recognize these mistakes the split-second before they happen? Instead of during? Or after?

But, ah, perhaps that right there is the height of immaturity.

Before? So you can be what, Emily; perfect? Serene all the time, and never ever unprepared, never stepping into muck or talking faster than your mind can think?

So the same quiet voice may in fact be saying to me right now, as I try to let the last week or so go and fall asleep, "Be grateful to recognize the mistake at all, much less in the bungling middle of it. That's an improvement! And don't cling to the notion you'll stop making mistakes. You only do that when you're dead. These mistakes are going to keep coming. The grace is in refusing to let them clobber you. And in going to sleep without feeding them."

But I'm NOT Sorry!

In the last month, I've noticed an uptick in saying sorry. Someone bumps into me; I say sorry. Someone emails me incorrect information; I reply, "Sorry, can I clarify, you meant the 19th not the 18th, since that is Friday, right?" Someone paid to provide a service arrives with a smile; I begin the interaction by apologizing for needing their service at all.

I don't think, typically, I'm a very apologetic woman. (Ask my husband.)

Whence does this uptick come?

Perhaps it is that as I embrace the start of middle age, I find everything greying out... not in emotion; far from it. Rather, I see things are more complicated - I am less sure of the black and white in life - I can understand another point of view even if I don't, or won't ever, share it. With this grey, is this apologizing some sort of uncertainty in my own authority creeping in, too?

Or perhaps it is sheer laziness. Plain ol' backsliding into the fierce cultural habits we're raised with as girls, all sugar and spice and everything nice. I'm certainly more tired than I've ever been - because it's true! It takes longer to recover from injuries, illnesses, nights out partying in middle age - and so maybe I'm putting my energy elsewhere and just forgetting to Stop Saying Sorry.

When was the last time you apologized? Were you really sorry? Was the error one of your making?

Another silver lining

Today I took a hip-hop class and watch out world! I am terrible!

Well, that's not exactly true, but I was pretty anxious - it has been 18 years since I took a formal dance class - and I was pretty intimidated by the "beginner" class participants. What if I taken the beginner-intermediate class!? I may have had to dismiss myself!

But while the choreography was challenging, and my memory for eight-counts could use a little work, the one place I was totally successful was in general fitness. I was sweating. I was panting a little. But I could have gone another hour - and I made it through all of the sanctioned warm-up push-ups and crunches, plus the drop-it-like-it's-hot squats that were part of our routine, over and over again.

So, first, I've checked off the "try something new" box for the month - 'cause hey, if it's been 18 years since I did this, we can all agree this is "new" to me as an adult.

And second, the silver lining to spending one's youth off the court, outside the track, sidelining at the game and passing on weight room is that at age 31, I can genuinely say I'm in the best shape of my life, and I don't have to lament that what was possible in my energetic youth is now gone (Big Macs and marathons!). Heck, I can save that certain lamentation for my next decade! Ha!

A thing I did not see on the street while growing up in Montana, which I saw today in Portland.

A woman walking toward the MAX train, pushing a baby stroller. The baby was asleep inside, covered in blankets, and both handles had swinging grocery bags hanging off them. Her hijab was maroon and very tight; so tight, in fact, that she had a flip-phone cell-phone tucked into it, and was chatting away. Take that, Bluetooth!