Because of the holiday there was only one water aerobics class yesterday but somehow I managed to stay there longer than usual.

Thankfully the crazy hippycrite woman was not there. I’ve been leaving halfway through the third class because if I stay the whole time I usually get a weird swimsuit burn on my underarm from all the repetitive arm movements. So I haven’t really spoken with her since my post. Yes, I’m avoiding confrontation as well but that arm burn stings and it’s better for me to be able to use deodorant trust me.

I ran into a friend-of-a-friend and her mom and we talked a long time about her bar results angst and another friend-of-a-friend who has serious delusions about her abusive crack addict boyfriend. I stood around in the pool talking with her and using water weights.

My resolve to not expose myself to much political stuff has been going fairly well. I slip every once in a while because there are several older women at the gym with whom it’s quite fun to discuss politics. I guess it doesn’t really count because none of them are with the media.

Anyway, I spent another hour or so doing resistance work in the pool with a kick board and talking to a woman who had seen a Kerry-Edwards button on my gym bag and then given me another one with “no bush” on it. They’ve started broadcasting Air America programs on a local am station here and she was very excited about that (as was I). She actually does a lot of grassroots work like making signs and standing on corners with them as well as handing out buttons and stickers in public places. I told her about the rooftop revolt which she found very exciting.

She seems cool but..

Again, here’s a cool person with strange ethnic hangups. I have no idea how the conversation got to this but at one point she mentioned how the “Spanish” people here (in New Mexico - as I understand it they prefer to be called Hispanic) tend to discriminate against Mexicans (ie those who have immigrated from Mexico in the last generation - whom I’ve been taught to call Mexican Nationals). Now she wasn’t saying anything particularly derogatory so my red flag didn’t raise quite as high as it did with the other lady.

Maybe I should clarify why I’m so hyper-aware of discriminatory remarks like this. Aside from being pretty aware of acting like a proper New Mexico transplant I grew up as a white woman in post-civil rights movement Birmingham, Alabama. So my hometown is associated with all those awful newsreels from the 60s with the dogs and the police attacking people who wanted to eat lunch at the same counter as white people. My parents had to cross picket lines their first day of college in Memphis. My sister has a master’s (and almost a PhD) in African American Feminist Lit. My neighborhood in Birmingham (Mountain Brook) had a large enough Jewish population to serve Matzos in the cafeteria during passover. One of my serious high school boyfriends was Jewish and taught me a lot about Judaism which started me on a very interesting journey of religious study. And, I’m the only non-Hispanic girl my husband ever dated. When I was travelling a lot I enjoyed immersing myself in the culture around me and the greatest compliment I could get was being mistaken for a local or, at the very least, not a typical American tourist.

I have been living in an atmosphere (by both accident and design) with very low tolerance for discrimination in lots of ways. In fact, lately I’ve even been trying to work through my right-winger Christian discrimination issues. I reallyreally try to be aware of discriminatory comments. Sure, sometimes I joke about ‘damn hippies’ or ‘those dern yankees’ and get in trouble but for the most part I stay out of trouble.

Back to what happened with this woman. She wasn’t saying anything particularly bad about Hispanics or Mexican Nationals - just she thought it was odd that one discriminated against the other. Apparently she’d taught some fairly troubled teenage youths at a school in the South Valley.

She seemed to be mostly confused because it was internal discriminations within a subset of a larger group that is discriminated against. I didn’t necessarily defend the fact that they did discriminate but I explained why they might want to separate themselves from the common prejudice against immigrants. My example was that while I’m proud that I’m from Alabama I still work my ass off to separate myself from the redneck trash usually associated with the place. In fact, my pride comes from the fact that I managed to grow up there without being an ignorant racist asshole. It seemed to make sense to her and I think it made her reconsider her weirdness a bit.

As I understand it, it’s not uncommon for groups that are discriminated against to discriminate against another group. I’ve heard nasty discriminatory comments made by people in Japan against those in Korea, African-Americans against Jewish people, Italians against Irish, how about the famous feud between two colleges in Alabama? There always seems to be that attitude, “Well I may be (blank) but at least I’m not (blank).” It’s interesting to think about isn’t it?

Routine

Also, I’ve decided that since I have a fairly set routine now I’m going to set up an appointment with Jenny Craig next week and get back on their plan.

I go to the gym three times a week: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I usually get to the gym between 7:30 and 9 am and work out, take classes, swim, sit in the hot tub until about 11:30 or 12:00. Then I walk over to the Keva Juice, get a citrus sunrise with all the supplements and a shot of wheatgrass juice. Then I go to the Subway next door and get a six inch turkey on honey oat with guacamole, lettuce, tomatoes, and black olives. Isn’t it funny that despite my total lack of a regular sleeping schedule I can be such a creature of habit?

So I’ve decided to add Jenny Craig to my routine since it’s just down the way from the Keva Juice and Subway. I feel like I really need to pair my exercise with diet to really see results. It’s kind of funny but I actually miss the Jenny Craig food too. It also adds more time to Cody’s nap before I call him to come pick me up.

And all this hard work seems to be paying off: every once in a while I’ll touch my thigh or upper arm and feel the hardness and definition of actual muscle. It’s such a cool surprise I usually make squeaky noises and make Cody lean over and feel it.

Now if I could only get over my new popsicle addiction.