Lets get physical. Sunday, January 28, 2007Lately I've been hitting the gym with increasing frequency (I am gearing up to compete in a sprint triathlon), often going after work/early evenings in addition to my usual morning workouts. The afternoon crowd is vastly different than the morning one, morning worker outers seem to be there on a mission. They want to work out and get out, whereas the afternoon/evening worker-outers tend to like to socialize. I seriously think some of them maybe put in 30 minute workouts while they've been there for hour- so they are spending 30 additional minutes talking to various people.
I have to admit I'm firmly a non-social person at the gym. I like to go and stare off into space for however long I'm there- I don't want to neccessarily talk to anyone else. It is my time to decompress, work through my thoughts, and burn some of the calories I've consumed during the day. So chatting away seems foreign to me, a waste of time really.
In the evening there are also some interesting outfits, this week alone I've seen a woman in jeans, men in dress pants, and several clearly work tops that are not appropriate for the gym. Now I now none of these compare to Molly, who used to see a woman work out in a t-shirt and pantyhose and nothing else, but seriously- what are people thinking when they come to gym dresses oddly?
I'd also like to take a moment to address the personal trainers at my gym.
Dear Personal Trainers:
Stop standing between the motherfucking cardio machines. There is approximately 12 inches of space between them, which means while you are talking to your client half your body is invading onto my eliptical machine. There is plenty of room in front of the machines, like a whole 4+ feet of space. I do not like having your ponytail brush my arm, which is sweaty from the working out which then causes your hair to stick to my arm. So move your ass out of my personal space before I yank your pony to make you move. Please and thank you.
I would also like to wonder why someone is paying you over $20 an hour to watch them walk on a treadmill or slowly peddle on an elpitical anyways? You really aren't advising them in any way, just standing there making small talk to them while they slowly (s.l.o.w.l.y.) trot along. Maybe some people need that much supervision? I guess I'm just a cheap because it seems a bit pointless.
Not so much love-
Mini meltdown Monday, January 22, 2007So this last Friday was happy hour Eurche. Which is always a good time, but happy hour always kicks my ass. And this time was no exception, everything is going along fantastically and I'm pleasantly buzzed and then next thing I know I'm drunky mcdrunkerson. I even thought I was doing pretty well because I made sure to eat a hot dog after work.
But a single hot dog when you've skipped lunch and then drinking 4+ beers = drunkenness. I know this, but sometimes I like to pretend I'm a complete moron.
It was sometime around 10pm that I felt it coming on, but up until that point I'd been having a pretty wonderful time. Then I had to flee the bar and get home right away. As soon as I shut my apartment door it came over me...I slumped against the door and started sobbing.
Full body wracking sobs, the kind that you can't control and just shake you to your core. I sobbed for a good long while against that door before I managed to find my phone and call my sister, who often is my lifeline. She is the beacon in the very dark night, partly due to the fact that she is older and has been through it all and secondly because we are so alike that it is scary. Plus I wouldn't want to have anyone else hear my crazy rantings, this woman has seen me at my worst and still loves me so it is to her I turn when I know I going to make an ass of myself.
So like a crazy nutbag I was sobbing about everything. My job, my family, my love life, the fact that I feel like I'm never going to get married and have children, and I will end up spending my life that crazy spinster aunt that every family has. You know the one, she still lives at home, has nearly no life outside of her church group and seemingly is out of her ever lovin' mind.
I've felt this building inside for quite a while, at least a month. And it really is no wonder since the amount of stress I've been under since mid-October is mind numbing. With the dying grandfather drama now having been dragged out 3 months, general malaise at work and then a love life that was looking mildly perky at the start of the new year but seemingly deflated almost instantly, plus I've got to move out of my current living situation and housing in this town is a real pisser.
So on Friday night I hit the trifecta and just cried and cried. The drunkenness didn't help, and I'm sure that my sister wished I had never picked up the phone to ring her. After about an hour she convinced me to go to bed telling me I would feel better in the morning.
And of course, like the smarty pants that she is, I did feel better in the morning. The crying was cathartic and besides the mild hangover and enormously puffy eyes I actually felt pretty damn good. Pent up emotion usually has to make itself out of my body someway- and last week I think I was trying to exercise it out (I went 2 times a day all week). All the hours I spent in the gym didn't do for my mood what one good drunken cry did, although the working out did do wonders for making my bottom smaller.
The only thing that did surprise me the next morning was the condition of my apartment. My coat was lying on the floor next to the door, I had shrugged it off whilst crying. And my purse was spilling out all over next to it, and next to that were my shoes. My pants were in the bathroom in a tangle, my shirts next to my bed. I was sleeping in my towel and my nightgown was over the top of the shower.
I have to admit I found it all amusing.
Lets hope I can go at least another couple of years before I feel the need to have a release like that.
Mute Monday, January 15, 2007There have been so many things I've been longing to say lately, but I have no words that can adequately bring them to life.
A life without meaning Thursday, January 11, 2007There is something that drives me to near homicidal rage every single
time I see it.
I don't need to see overly happy couples hugging each other because they are so.damn.happy. that they found each other while I sit in my sweatpants on my couch all alone in my big, cold empty house. Living my unmeaningful shell of life because I am not complete without the opposite member sex partner beside me.
Perhaps all those couples really are happy, but to me they look like they have drunk the koolaid at camp crazy.
Plus the idea that all I've been missing in my love life is to be matched on 29 specific dimensions or however many dimensions there are to 'ensuring lasting love and happiness'. I kind of revel in the idea that all my relationships will fail because I'm not sure I could ever match 29 dimensions with any other person- ever. And really where did he come up with 29 dimensions, what if I have 32 dimensions I should be matched on to find meaningful love.
Have you ever tried to fill out their survey to locate your 29 dimensions? It is like taking the fucking SAT. I think I gave up after trying to fill in all the answers and realized I wasn't done after 20 minutes. Call me lazy but that is entirely too long for me to spend trying to determine if:
I am a happy person
A. all of the time
B. most of the time
C. Some of the time
Because the sarcastic bitch in me wants to put that I'm never happy thus entirely fucking up the dimensions. Plus, does anyone ever really say that they are never happy? 'I'm a terribly depressed person who can barely get out bed in the morning. Want to go on a date?'
If anything your rejection of them might crush the remaining bit of their will to live.
If it was really that easy to meet someone you could love it would remove a lot of the messy ups and downs. Not that I wouldn't mind the missing some of the aspects of dating-terrible first dates that won't end/ fantastic first dates and the anxious waiting by the phone hoping they will call (not that I can't call them- I know I could and do).
Maybe it is that they imply if you don't use their service you aren't serious about dating. As several people in the commercials say something to the effect of 'It was New Years Day and I decided it was time to be serious about finding love.'
Everyone else in the world who isn't using EHarmony is clearly looking willy nilly for love in all the wrong places and apparently going about it like troglodytes.
How in the world did people ever get married/find the love of the life before EHarmony? I guess it was just a solitary world with lots sad lonely people crying in dark corners so no one could see their shame at never having been loved.
REM cycle Tuesday, January 02, 2007"BUSTED!"
I love waking up to that phrase being yelled outside my bedroom window at 3:45am on workday. It really does wonders for your heart rate and gives you a little rush of adrenaline that makes it damn near impossible to go back to sleep for nearly an hour.
Students are awesome.