Thursday, 30 September 2010

hey there, mister.

sneak peek. don't worry, i'll totally crop em or something with my photoshops.



Monday, 13 September 2010

another one bites the dust


sometimes i feel weird about being the last of my graduating class who's still single. it's kind of like when i was the last to get asked to prom, only way worse.
but then i remember that once i got asked to prom, i got asked TWICE!! in one night!!!!
i'm not really sure how to interpret this, but i think it means there's a bright, double light at the end of the tunnel. or maybe just that i'm the next contestant on the MORMON BACHELORETTE.

Tuesday, 7 September 2010

gym rat.

So I've decided to be super alt and admit that I love Gold's Gym. I mean if you think about it, where else can the brawny and brainless find acceptance and a lifelong career? I'm having serious serious regrets about not bringing my camera with me to work out, since the other day this sign was on the door:
"THEIR WILL NOT BE CLASS ON MONDAY DUE TO LABOR DAY."
Someone didn't learn there grammar.

I have this secret fantasy of teaching one of those classes though. I guess it's delusional to think I could fit in with that crowd but don't you think it'd be inspirational for people to follow someone with a realistic body type? At least it wouldn't build false expectations. I'm trying to think what would qualify me for that job...
There was that giggly girl who always wore spandex and a visor and had shiny skin. "Hehe... Great job ladies...work it out now, tehehe.."
Then there's Julie. 6 feet tall, booty shaking, nothing but muscle.
Then there's Rona. Ohhhh Rona. I think she's a she.
It seems that the ability to be bangin in spandex is imperative. While that may not describe me precisely, I feel I owe it to my progenitor to try it out.

Ever since I can remember my mother has awaken at the crack of dawn to teach step aerobics to a group of stalwart ladies at our church building. They use homemade wooden steps, carry 3 pound weights, and talk about gardening while doing repeaters and 6-count mambos. It's been her life goal to get me up for her class, and all three times i've been I must say it's pretty legit.

Butttt let's be honest there's no way I'm getting up at 5 am to burn a few calories and talk zinnias. Instead I've found another class with another group of 40-year-old women to attend. I'm not sure whether I work twice as young as them or if I'm just performing a middle-aged workout, but I love it. So much so that I've basically arranged my life schedule around it (ask my co-workers, they love waiting until 11 to have meetings.)

At this point I'm basically besties with these chicks, and I'm finding that once you go class you don't go back. How can I leave my safe haven and re-enter the open market now? That guy who always wears the full body unitard? Please tell me you've seen him. Petrifying.
Not to mention the trainers and their analogies:
"Do you know what going to the gym without a trainer is like? It's like your parents putting you in a library full of books instead of sending you to college."*
Yeah....since you went to college, eh? I mean I recognize i'm using this neck machine totally wrong, but for heavens sake I will kill you if you call me out right now.

Why is it that the most embarrassing things have to happen at the gym? As if the red face, b.o. and sweavage wasn't enough, that cardio cinema is a DEATH TRAP OF EXERCISE MACHINERY! One minute i'm watching Channing Tatum step it up, the next I'm pop lock & droppin off my treadmill and onto the ground behind me, in plain sight of that guy from my English class. Ugh.

Maybe I will pull out all the stops and try a Zumba class. Yeah, my middle aged lady posse might kill me for ditching them but hey, a girl's gotta burn what a girl's gotta burn. And if anyone feels like joining me ind what promises to be an entertaining evening filled with spandex and meatheads, do let me know.

*this is an exact quote quoted upon me several years ago. fortunately, i wasn't 18 and he couldn't legally ruin my day.