I think I'm going to continue this list until I am unable to find hilarious movie/TV title puns that kind of rhyme with "list." Once those titles run out, the dream is over. Actually, I would probably run out of things to do in Madison before I run out of Land Before Time sequels.
Madison Bucket List
Day 18: Go to the challah street block party
scrumptious challah
So I've been volunteering on-and-off for a group called "Challah for Hunger" for a couple of years. The group sells challah bread and all the proceeds go towards hunger and disaster relief. It's run through Hillel, the hub for Jewish campus life.
Q: Are you Jewish?
A: Well no, I suppose I am not.
Q: Did you know that Challah is a bread traditionally enjoyed by those of the Jewish persuasion?
A: No.
Q: Before volunteering, did you have any idea that Hillel or challah bread had anything to do with the Jewish faith?
A: That would be another no.
Q: When a girl made a remark about how you're Jewish did you get immediately get flustered, but instead of pointing out that you aren't Jewish did you go along with it and let them think, for an entire year, that you're Jewish?
A: I think we both know the answer to that question is obviously yes.
Yeah. I walked in one day, and I was like "my name is Hannah!" And they were all "haha there's already two Hannahs here, and I'm Rachel. Isn't that just SOOOO typical? We're such a stereotype. Hahahahah."
Except I'm a nervous laugher so before I could figure out what was going on I was already laughing with them. I couldn't go back. We'd shared laughs. So I just crossed my fingers and hoped that they wouldn't ask me what day Hanukkah starts.
Shmanyway. Challah for Hunger hosted a "Challah Street Block Party" and they had about 15 kinds of challah breads and challah grilled cheese and challah french toast.
Obviously I gorged uncontrollably. No regrets. Everyone should go. Free samples.
Day 19: Take a kickboxing class at 9Round
Yeah. I kick box now. Do you want to fight abut it? No. Obviously you don't. Because I'm such an awesome kick boxer I'd kick your butt. Check out the boxing wrap that I just learned how to use.
The gym involves moving from station to station and punching, kicking, jabbing, etc. It makes me feel awesome, even though I'm the least experienced person in the gym. By far.
We're asked to have an intense nickname to write down if we ever do a certain set in record time or with record reps (HA HA HA... not happening). But I did get to read some nickname doozies like "Ross the Boss," "Miller Time" and "Dr. Zaius."
These muscular, intimidating people always seem to catch up to me while I'm doing something way too difficult for my skill level, like round kicking a 100 pound bag. It hurts a lot. I don't think I'm doing it right. Here's a conversation from yesterday.
Rippling muscle man : "Hey."
Me: (pant, struggle, sweat, minimal tears, wince) "Hnnnggggghhey."
RMM: You don't own your own gloves? They're only about $35!
Me: (Mr. Moneybags over here thinks I have $35 to throw around. Bro, if I had $35 to throw around I would not be standing before you in my ripped-up high school band t-shirt) "Ha ha... yeah (sweat dripping)....I just don't really (pant pant)... have them..."
RMM: "Ohhh ho ho! Well keep working and one day you'll beat my score ha ha ha ha"
Me: (shut up, moneybags. Just.. shut up.) Ha ha! One day! (But first I should figure out what a "jab" is).
So yeah. I'm pretty much an awesome kick boxer.
Day 20: Bike through arboretum
I tried this once before on a 40-year-old tandem bike. The brakes didn't actually "work" and the handlebars didn't really "steer." The results were... not great. But this time I went back on a normal bike, and the ride was gorgeous. Turns out, there are enormous houses hidden back there and oh mah gah I want to live there. One day when I become an NBA basketball star I'll be able to afford it.
However, I was not prepared for some of the hills back there. When it was flat land and I was biking like a champ, there was no one around for miles. But every time I panted up a hill like a wounded boar the entire freaking UW-Madison bicycling team rode by. And they would sneer back at me as if to say, "Ah yes. That poor girl and her Diamondback bike. Her handlebars don't even point down. They point up. And where are her yellow lycra shorts? Fool."
On the very last hill, when I was at my most pathetic, this old man who was on his way down the hill rang his little bike bell in encouragement. And I swear my first thought was, "I DON'T NEED YOUR PITY, OLD MAN." But then I realized I'm a terrible person and I continued with my bike ride.
What I'm trying to say here is, this is my new attitude towards trying to be athletic:
LULZ!! I had a friend who thought I was Jewish for an entire year. Her evidence was such:
ReplyDelete1. Brown hair
2. Dated a Jewish guy for a few months
3. Talked about Seder at my church.
Whoopsie!