Have you ever signed up for a promotion or given your email address to a website in exchange for a deal? No? Bullshit. You know you have. I typically refrain from doing that*, because to me,...if you wouldn't pay full price for it, then you probably don't want it that bad anyway and therefore don't need to buy it. Plus, then if you do sign up, you get a million junk emails...
But I digress because this post isn't about shopping...it's about how two years ago, I went on a website to look for a running outfit and instead ended up posting a life goal on one of their sub-sites... (shut up...I don't know what I was thinking.)
I swear to you I would typically never do this because the idea of setting a goal on a website (other than my very own blog) sounds like something I'd make fun of one of my friends for doing... But I did it. I think I got a coupon for a free something... the point is, that this morning, while I was parking my car at work, I got an email from the site...reminding me that I needed to change my goal...as the date for my goal has now officially passed. I had forgotten I had even done this. Anyway...
I know...you're thinking... let me guess... you quit smoking...hurray! No asshole...actually ...my goal was "to get promoted to Art Director" and the deadline I gave myself was April 28. And looking back I remember I was GOING to put "quit smoking" but then I laughed and put that instead.
Funny that I get that email now as my current job comes to a near close, ... but even stranger that I got promoted to Art Director last year...and the year on my goal was 2010.... AND I quit smoking.
Not to get all Jack Handy on you but... sometimes I think life is a cruel joke and there's some dude in the sky eating skittles and laughing his ass off at us.... but then other times...I think the guy likes to be nice and share his skittles... and in this moment... I think he shared his skittles with me.*
Just so you know, I am well aware I sound insane but for your info, I actually woke up in a really good mood this morning... let's hope it lasts cause I have to go to a Government building today... and you know how fun that can be...
* (Of course if it's on sale and you've been coveting it...then it turns into a sign from God that yes...you were meant to have it). ...
** Please cut me some slack. It's Friday and I have to go to the DMV...I mean the Social Security office... (same shit really...pick a number...wait forever,...deal with person who hates their life....you know...) and I'm coming off one of the longest weeks I've ever had... oh and did I mention I quit smoking and it is month 2, day 4?
Friday, March 4, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Day Three of Month Two and Yes I'm Counting...
The last thing I remember seeing last night was the time on my phone before I went to sleep. It said 2:00 am. I can understand if you're Secretary of State that being up for 18 hours, and then powering through the next day on 4 seems like paddy cakes, but I'm a graphic designer with a 9 to 5 and I feel like I just got the crap kicked out of me by life.
Everyone told me that month two of quitting was going to be bad... and I knew they were right, but I thought I'd at least get past the third of the month before that happened. Nope. This post is going to be short because I feel like I'm capable of writing a whole ton of shit that I'm almost certain I will regret later... and no sense in prolonging the agony. Plus, I already look like a train wreck so writing something dumb would just be the icing. Hope your day is prettier than I am at this very moment... a lot prettier.
Everyone told me that month two of quitting was going to be bad... and I knew they were right, but I thought I'd at least get past the third of the month before that happened. Nope. This post is going to be short because I feel like I'm capable of writing a whole ton of shit that I'm almost certain I will regret later... and no sense in prolonging the agony. Plus, I already look like a train wreck so writing something dumb would just be the icing. Hope your day is prettier than I am at this very moment... a lot prettier.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Sh*t WE WON!!!!
First I have to start this post by thanking my wonderful and gorgeous friend for giving away his Caps tickets so that I and BF could see the Caps kill the Islanders last night in some PHENOMENAL seats. It was a game that made it hard for me to sleep ... and I also almost lost my voice which is just... I know... damn near impossible.
I want to tell you also, that I am completely aware of how obnoxious I am at sporting events. I once cheered so hard at a Bullets home game for Orlando, that Penny winked at me (swear to God). I then proceeded to get popcorn thrown at me... and other forms of garbage but I didn't stop until a woman literally pulled my hair and even then....
Then there was the time I made a twelve year old boy cry. And I have to tell you... that kid had it coming... I warned him that he shouldn't start shit talking with a professional shit talker (and.... don't look so shocked okay? He started it....) but he didn't listen...he went for it...and then I just had to put the kibosh on the whole thing. I mean.. don't tell me Karl Malone is the mailman when at the time..he wasn't delivering shit... (don't get all pissy... I apologized,...) And that wasn't even a recent event. I was probably 19 at the time...
But this all hearkens back to when DC didn't have a baseball team, and I was an O's fan and my dad used to take me to Camden Yards to watch Cal. I loved Cal Ripken. He was the Iron Man and my biggest grade school hero. He could do no wrong...and it was watching him play where I learned the art of shit talking. I was in second grade I think.....We were up in the nosebleeds, but not all the way at the top, and it was raining and sleeting and shitty out, and I was so excited because I loved the O's and barely even noticed the weather (Dad on the other hand was not happy about it... but I wouldn't let him leave because I wasn't going to miss the game...). They were playing the Blue Jays... and right in front of us were a bunch of Toronto fans, and right behind us...were a bunch of drunk, loud and dedicated shit talking O's fans.
Now at some point, if you take your kid to a game,...you're gonna expose that kid to a whole lotta shit talking. And it's gonna leave an impression. And the impression I got, was that I would never be one of those Blue Jay fans... for one thing... they lost that game,...and the entire time, these guys behind us are just laying into the Toronto fans who are just sitting there taking it... and I thought... so that's what a real fan sounds like... and the fact that we won that game solidified my complete and utter admiration for that type of dedication. I mean, do you know what it takes to scream that loud for 9 innings straight? Do you know what it takes to do that in the sleet and rain? And make Canadians rethink their citizenship? (Okay yes... 10 beers and a couple of hotdogs but it also takes 100% loyalty and 100% heart). I have both to a fault.
BF will tell you I am like the trophy asshole at the game. He really hates going to games with me because I embarrass him. Parents... leave your innocents at home. If you see me, I will be loud. I will be brutal. I will be unforgiving. And if you're on my team's side... you may just get a kick of out it. Last night was a prime example, although I will tell you that it's not a good idea for me to start the game hungry or thirsty and I was both. At one point I almost reached over and grabbed this woman's bbq burger... plus she was just annoying...she kept rolling her eyes every time I opened my mouth. Now the ladies to the left of me... they liked me.... and for that, I liked them.
At one point in the first period, an Islander took a terrible shot (and missed) on a wide open goal...so I yelled "OH MY GOD YOU SUCK!" And these two women look over at me and so I turned to look at them and they burst out laughing and said, "well hell...you were just saying what the hell I was thinkin'... so good for you." The guy to my right, however... was so obnoxious, he made me look like a cheerleader and he wouldn't shut up about his roller hockey glory days which just about sent me over the edge (and that you really do not want to see....trust me). So I'm sitting there, and I'm looking around, and trying not to steal this woman's burger and punch this dude in the face ... and then BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ end of first period I shot up like a rocket and went on a quest to find food. Of course this turned out to be a nightmare. I walked half way around the arena trying to find a burger that wasn't some kosher vegan bullsh*t and ended up coming back with a 9 dollar, half filled basket of what they were calling "chicken fingers and fries" but looked more like chicken knuckles and potato scraps...
In the end, however, we won, and isn't that what it's all about? I mean...isn't winning the MOST important thing? When we were leaving, my voice was shot to shit but then I smelled someone smoking my cigarettes and I felt... really glad that I wasn't... because I was in the bathroom and that's just wrong...and even more glad that my team just won. So happy that I screamed "SUCKS TO BE A LOSER!" And well hell...it's true... and as BF rolled his eyes (again), I thought, "Some habits... not worth quitting..and you can't get cancer from shit talking (at least last time I checked) "
I want to tell you also, that I am completely aware of how obnoxious I am at sporting events. I once cheered so hard at a Bullets home game for Orlando, that Penny winked at me (swear to God). I then proceeded to get popcorn thrown at me... and other forms of garbage but I didn't stop until a woman literally pulled my hair and even then....
Then there was the time I made a twelve year old boy cry. And I have to tell you... that kid had it coming... I warned him that he shouldn't start shit talking with a professional shit talker (and.... don't look so shocked okay? He started it....) but he didn't listen...he went for it...and then I just had to put the kibosh on the whole thing. I mean.. don't tell me Karl Malone is the mailman when at the time..he wasn't delivering shit... (don't get all pissy... I apologized,...) And that wasn't even a recent event. I was probably 19 at the time...
But this all hearkens back to when DC didn't have a baseball team, and I was an O's fan and my dad used to take me to Camden Yards to watch Cal. I loved Cal Ripken. He was the Iron Man and my biggest grade school hero. He could do no wrong...and it was watching him play where I learned the art of shit talking. I was in second grade I think.....We were up in the nosebleeds, but not all the way at the top, and it was raining and sleeting and shitty out, and I was so excited because I loved the O's and barely even noticed the weather (Dad on the other hand was not happy about it... but I wouldn't let him leave because I wasn't going to miss the game...). They were playing the Blue Jays... and right in front of us were a bunch of Toronto fans, and right behind us...were a bunch of drunk, loud and dedicated shit talking O's fans.
Now at some point, if you take your kid to a game,...you're gonna expose that kid to a whole lotta shit talking. And it's gonna leave an impression. And the impression I got, was that I would never be one of those Blue Jay fans... for one thing... they lost that game,...and the entire time, these guys behind us are just laying into the Toronto fans who are just sitting there taking it... and I thought... so that's what a real fan sounds like... and the fact that we won that game solidified my complete and utter admiration for that type of dedication. I mean, do you know what it takes to scream that loud for 9 innings straight? Do you know what it takes to do that in the sleet and rain? And make Canadians rethink their citizenship? (Okay yes... 10 beers and a couple of hotdogs but it also takes 100% loyalty and 100% heart). I have both to a fault.
BF will tell you I am like the trophy asshole at the game. He really hates going to games with me because I embarrass him. Parents... leave your innocents at home. If you see me, I will be loud. I will be brutal. I will be unforgiving. And if you're on my team's side... you may just get a kick of out it. Last night was a prime example, although I will tell you that it's not a good idea for me to start the game hungry or thirsty and I was both. At one point I almost reached over and grabbed this woman's bbq burger... plus she was just annoying...she kept rolling her eyes every time I opened my mouth. Now the ladies to the left of me... they liked me.... and for that, I liked them.
At one point in the first period, an Islander took a terrible shot (and missed) on a wide open goal...so I yelled "OH MY GOD YOU SUCK!" And these two women look over at me and so I turned to look at them and they burst out laughing and said, "well hell...you were just saying what the hell I was thinkin'... so good for you." The guy to my right, however... was so obnoxious, he made me look like a cheerleader and he wouldn't shut up about his roller hockey glory days which just about sent me over the edge (and that you really do not want to see....trust me). So I'm sitting there, and I'm looking around, and trying not to steal this woman's burger and punch this dude in the face ... and then BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ end of first period I shot up like a rocket and went on a quest to find food. Of course this turned out to be a nightmare. I walked half way around the arena trying to find a burger that wasn't some kosher vegan bullsh*t and ended up coming back with a 9 dollar, half filled basket of what they were calling "chicken fingers and fries" but looked more like chicken knuckles and potato scraps...
In the end, however, we won, and isn't that what it's all about? I mean...isn't winning the MOST important thing? When we were leaving, my voice was shot to shit but then I smelled someone smoking my cigarettes and I felt... really glad that I wasn't... because I was in the bathroom and that's just wrong...and even more glad that my team just won. So happy that I screamed "SUCKS TO BE A LOSER!" And well hell...it's true... and as BF rolled his eyes (again), I thought, "Some habits... not worth quitting..and you can't get cancer from shit talking (at least last time I checked) "
Warning
Okay I'm warning you that I haven't had coffee yet, almost ran out of gas on the way to work, and I'm late. Yes... all of the ingredients for a bad day, however... I should also tell you that I am kind of not in the worst mood ever because I'm still getting over.... wait for it... wait for it..... last night's Caps vs. Islanders game!!!! Which, I got to go to care of my wonderful and gorgeously amazing and safely recovering aforementioned friend. I can't write you the entire saga now, but I will later so stay tuned...
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Thank You.
One month ago, without giving it much thought, I decided it was time for me to quit smoking after thirteen years. Most people don't even stay married that long and the relationship I had with cigarettes was strong. I loved them and well...they loved me.
When I decided to quit smoking, it was something I had thought about on and off for two months. I wasn't sure I'd actually do it, or want to do it, but I had decided that if I did, I wouldn't think too hard about it. I'd pick a day, and then that would be it. Every time I had attempted to quit in the past, I would agonize over the details and mark calendars that would eventually sit in desk drawers drawing dust (how'd you like that alliteration? Not bad for 7:33 in the morning, huh?) Then someone would piss me off and I'd go out and buy a pack.
I got so good at smoking that I think on some level I grew out of it. I started to feel this nagging sense that maybe I was pushing fate a little too hard, and I should probably stop... So I read an article about what happens to your body when you quit... and at the end of the article, it said to get support because without it failure was inevitable.
So I forced myself to join a quit smoking forum online and to give it a chance... because every fiber of my being was telling me, "if you join a support group... I will never look at you the same way again." I would have this inner dialogue that went something like this:
Me: A support group? Are you joking? Is your last name Lohan?
Me: Shut up. The article says...
Me: The article says...you sound like Elizabeth Hasselbeck... The article says... who are you!?@ The article was probably written by someone who has never smoked a cigarette in their life. They're probably vegetarian for Chrissakes!
Me: Seriously... I think I should do this... give it a chance... stop being such a judgemental dick about this! There are good people trying to do good things...
Me: Yeah? I want to kick you in the face right now because you sound like an asshole. Good people....good things...
Me: I'm doing this.
Me: I will make fun of you for the rest of your life
Me: Yeah but at least I'll have a life....dick.
So I joined a group online... and I stuck with it for a week before I decided it was time to break off from the pack and start my own blog. It wasn't that there weren't some nice people on that thing... there were.. and quitting is hard as hell so if that's what you need to do...do it...but for me... I need a little humor with my quit. I couldn't stomach the "inhale slowly" emails I was getting every 15 minutes from some chick in Arizona who no doubt has 30 cats and was typing to me on a hammock to the tune of wind chimes (not that there's anything wrong with that.) And I felt if I didn't break off, I was going to be the bitch in the forum no one would talk to... so I politely (yeah I know...hard to believe but true) broke away and started this thing...and here I am.
I guess I am writing this to tell you that after one month of not smoking... I have you to thank. You are my biggest support system, you keep me sane, and at the end of the day I feel a deep sense of gratitude that I have you to turn to in moments of weakness. And there have been and I know will continue to be some moments.
My goal is to write to you every day for one year. 365 days...last post being January 30th, 2012. I hope you will continue to be there, as I have grown very fond of this self indulgent blog, and I hope you have too...
Love L.
When I decided to quit smoking, it was something I had thought about on and off for two months. I wasn't sure I'd actually do it, or want to do it, but I had decided that if I did, I wouldn't think too hard about it. I'd pick a day, and then that would be it. Every time I had attempted to quit in the past, I would agonize over the details and mark calendars that would eventually sit in desk drawers drawing dust (how'd you like that alliteration? Not bad for 7:33 in the morning, huh?) Then someone would piss me off and I'd go out and buy a pack.
I got so good at smoking that I think on some level I grew out of it. I started to feel this nagging sense that maybe I was pushing fate a little too hard, and I should probably stop... So I read an article about what happens to your body when you quit... and at the end of the article, it said to get support because without it failure was inevitable.
So I forced myself to join a quit smoking forum online and to give it a chance... because every fiber of my being was telling me, "if you join a support group... I will never look at you the same way again." I would have this inner dialogue that went something like this:
Me: A support group? Are you joking? Is your last name Lohan?
Me: Shut up. The article says...
Me: The article says...you sound like Elizabeth Hasselbeck... The article says... who are you!?@ The article was probably written by someone who has never smoked a cigarette in their life. They're probably vegetarian for Chrissakes!
Me: Seriously... I think I should do this... give it a chance... stop being such a judgemental dick about this! There are good people trying to do good things...
Me: Yeah? I want to kick you in the face right now because you sound like an asshole. Good people....good things...
Me: I'm doing this.
Me: I will make fun of you for the rest of your life
Me: Yeah but at least I'll have a life....dick.
So I joined a group online... and I stuck with it for a week before I decided it was time to break off from the pack and start my own blog. It wasn't that there weren't some nice people on that thing... there were.. and quitting is hard as hell so if that's what you need to do...do it...but for me... I need a little humor with my quit. I couldn't stomach the "inhale slowly" emails I was getting every 15 minutes from some chick in Arizona who no doubt has 30 cats and was typing to me on a hammock to the tune of wind chimes (not that there's anything wrong with that.) And I felt if I didn't break off, I was going to be the bitch in the forum no one would talk to... so I politely (yeah I know...hard to believe but true) broke away and started this thing...and here I am.
I guess I am writing this to tell you that after one month of not smoking... I have you to thank. You are my biggest support system, you keep me sane, and at the end of the day I feel a deep sense of gratitude that I have you to turn to in moments of weakness. And there have been and I know will continue to be some moments.
My goal is to write to you every day for one year. 365 days...last post being January 30th, 2012. I hope you will continue to be there, as I have grown very fond of this self indulgent blog, and I hope you have too...
Love L.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Anne Hathaway Stop It Already
I'm assuming most of you spent last night watching or not watching or pretending not to watch the Academy Awards. The last time I watched the Academy Awards I was at a friend's house smoking cigarettes, drinking beer and eating Thai food. This time, I was at home, on the sofa, in the basement getting more and more irritated with Anne Hathaway. And I truly felt bad for Geoffrey Rush because he was so great in the King's Speech, but I hearted The Fighter and so I was really happy for Christian Bale.
Now if you didn't see the Academy Awards, let me recap... The Kings Speech, The Fighter, The Kings Speech, The Fighter... and I turned on the television right when they decided to play the scene from TKS where Colin/Duke of York is smoking a cigarette and telling Geoffrey Rush that his "knighted" speech therapist told him smoking would help relax his throat. Can I just tell you that I saw The Kings Speech by myself because I couldn't get any of my friends to watch a movie about a guy who stuttered ...even if he was the King of England... and I was kind of happy that I got to go alone.
For one thing, I was the youngest person in the theater and I sat in front of two MBA students (okay, so maybe they were younger) but I got a lot of really good financial advice I'll never use for free! And because Colin Firth smokes throughout the movie what looked like Marlboro 27s, I decided afterwards that well... the King of England got to relax his throat muscles by smoking, then why the hell shouldn't I? Stupid... I know that now... but I have become very good at justifying/rationalizing everything I do only later to contradict myself. Bad habit # 527.
Anyway, it's now 7:09 am... I've been sitting here for half an hour typing this because it's 7:10 am now and I'm the only one in the office, because why on earth would anyone come in so early unless they were giving up cigarettes and operating on the same schedule as the Northeastern Chickadee population. God those damn birds are so annoying...
Now if you didn't see the Academy Awards, let me recap... The Kings Speech, The Fighter, The Kings Speech, The Fighter... and I turned on the television right when they decided to play the scene from TKS where Colin/Duke of York is smoking a cigarette and telling Geoffrey Rush that his "knighted" speech therapist told him smoking would help relax his throat. Can I just tell you that I saw The Kings Speech by myself because I couldn't get any of my friends to watch a movie about a guy who stuttered ...even if he was the King of England... and I was kind of happy that I got to go alone.
For one thing, I was the youngest person in the theater and I sat in front of two MBA students (okay, so maybe they were younger) but I got a lot of really good financial advice I'll never use for free! And because Colin Firth smokes throughout the movie what looked like Marlboro 27s, I decided afterwards that well... the King of England got to relax his throat muscles by smoking, then why the hell shouldn't I? Stupid... I know that now... but I have become very good at justifying/rationalizing everything I do only later to contradict myself. Bad habit # 527.
Anyway, it's now 7:09 am... I've been sitting here for half an hour typing this because it's 7:10 am now and I'm the only one in the office, because why on earth would anyone come in so early unless they were giving up cigarettes and operating on the same schedule as the Northeastern Chickadee population. God those damn birds are so annoying...
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Gym Clowns
Preface: Longest day ever...feeling effects of (see below) and literally just electrocuted myself trying to unplug my laptop. I'm on a roll... Anyway, I told you I'd be back to write you some ridiculousness... So here goes:
Yesterday I woke up, went to Starbucks and was planning my morning run when a friend called and asked if I wanted to go with her and her friend to the Grand Opening of a new gym. "There will be snacks and free shit"...she says.
Please note: I already belong to an overpriced, very popular "luxury..." gym in the city with access to multiple cross country locations. Also please note: I'm an asshole because I literally pay for this membership so I can run on a treadmill (and I own a treadmill....). I think I've been to two classes in 3 years... one spinning class which I loved but couldn't walk right for a week afterward, and then one hip hop dance class (shutup) which I was dragged to by a friend because she thought the trainer was hot. (He wasn't and neither was the class). Anyway back to yesterday...
I thought, well...the weather is mediocre and it would probably be better to work out with friends so why not. When we arrived, the gym was one of these suburban behemoth type places filled with balloons but...that wasn't what bothered me (okay it did a little) but more so.... was the fact that it only took 2.5 seconds before I spotted a clown. (I didn't spot the pirate until we were leaving). If you see a clown in a gym, you should just leave. Immediately. But we were there, and we were being swarmed by sales reps and personal trainers wanting to sell and assess... I was hassled less than my friend but that's probably because I had this, "I can't believe I'm looking at a f-ing clown right now" look on my face... in what is supposed to be some premier gym and there are kids running around touching everything and coughing and drooling and all I want to do is get on a treadmill and run for 3 miles tops. So after about 20 minutes of walking around and getting our bearings, I finally hopped on a treadmill and did what I always do.... plugged in ear buds to my iPhone, picked a song, put it on repeat and then hit "Quick Start."
I was doing good...started slow, and every mile kicked it up a notch... but at mile 2 a woman got onto the treadmill next to me. I hate when this happens. I hate when this happens even more when there are 10 other treadmills not being used. I like to zone out when running so I gave her the once over and kept it moving... (by the way.... I have to in good conscience just put this out there... please don't wear animal print to the gym. Ever. It's wrong. And it's more wrong when you can't fit the print. It's almost sadder than the clown...)
So I'm running, and I'm not a fast runner so I'm gliding along at a leisurely pace and checking my email and I can feel her looking at me, and at my machine. And I'm running, and I'm thinking "if you don't stop looking at my screen..." but she keeps doing it. I don't care okay? I was running a 13 minute mile at that point and yes I know that's slow as hell, but what do I care? I'm not sitting on the couch so whatever. But it's annoying to have someone constantly turning to look at you and your stats while you run.
This lady by the way looked like she should be in a water aerobics class. Seriously. Plus I hear animal print is acceptable there. Anyway, I thought fine... you want to stare? And with that I upped my speed considerably. I'm not even going to tell you what I set it to but it was ridiculous and I had no business running that fast (especially since I am coming back from a workout layover). So I'm running fast, and feeling good...so good I don't even notice the woman has left... and I'm not feeling terrible. I didn't even feel...tired so I decided I would make it to 5 miles and call it quits, and at that point I felt I could have run 10 because all I had all day was coffee and tea... so I was highly caffeinated (I know...I'm replacing substances...already got the "junkie talk" multiple times from gym friend)...
So I had a quarter mile left to go and all of a sudden my speed drops, and it throws me off and I'm like "What just happened?" And the machine is cutting me off...it's saying "COOL DOWN." And I'm like "No F-ing Way are you shutting me down when I have a quarter mile left..." so I'm pushing the speed up and it's forcing its way back down and I do this about four times while other club members are looking at me like I'm crazy...and then suddenly the machine just stops and says, "GOOD WORKOUT" So I am standing there fuming...pissed as all get out...and my friend says, "Are you done now?" and being the stubborn monster I am say, "like hell" and I hop over to the next treadmill...and start over. By the time I left the gym my slate gray t-shirt was charcoal. I felt good though..energized and I got a free crabcake! I know...eating at the gym..weird but it was there...and at least I wasn't the guy on the stationary recliner bike eating a chocolate Odwalla bar... I had to force myself NOT To take his picture...
As we're walking out towards the main lobby, my friend and I pass the clown and,...
Friend: There's nothing sadder than a clown."
Me: Yeah but haven't you heard...clown college is harder to get into than Harvard...that's saying something right?
Friend: Not really. I mean... think about it. If you (pointing at me) mess up at work....it's okay. People will live. But if that clown fails at his/her job... then basically that means they fail at making people happy!
Me: Well... yeah... I guess... wow. When you put it like that... that's f-d up though... don't say that. you're really messing up my endorphine high... I just had a great workout and you're making me feel bad about clowns...
Friend: Seriously... think about it. That clown doesn't even LOOK funny....that's why I just get sad when I see clowns.
Me: Well what about pirates?
Friend: Pirates?
Me: (Pointing to pirate with the biggest head I've ever seen...)
Friend: Let's get out of here.
Me: Yeah....
So today, I went to breakfast, had 2 bloody mary's and some of the best crabcakes ever and then went shopping, and tried to ignore the serious pain in my hips... damn that pirate clown gym. I also have to state again that it's day 28, and I think the newness of quitting has worn out (especially with friends and family) but I promise you,... I still think about it. I listened to Fast Car (Tracy Chapman) on the way home so you know...that's really bad... and I'm moody and not even running five miles helps. But I'm going to hang in there...and I believe that by the end of this... (if there ever is an end)... somehow I'll make it out okay.... maybe even better than before...
Yesterday I woke up, went to Starbucks and was planning my morning run when a friend called and asked if I wanted to go with her and her friend to the Grand Opening of a new gym. "There will be snacks and free shit"...she says.
Please note: I already belong to an overpriced, very popular "luxury..." gym in the city with access to multiple cross country locations. Also please note: I'm an asshole because I literally pay for this membership so I can run on a treadmill (and I own a treadmill....). I think I've been to two classes in 3 years... one spinning class which I loved but couldn't walk right for a week afterward, and then one hip hop dance class (shutup) which I was dragged to by a friend because she thought the trainer was hot. (He wasn't and neither was the class). Anyway back to yesterday...
I thought, well...the weather is mediocre and it would probably be better to work out with friends so why not. When we arrived, the gym was one of these suburban behemoth type places filled with balloons but...that wasn't what bothered me (okay it did a little) but more so.... was the fact that it only took 2.5 seconds before I spotted a clown. (I didn't spot the pirate until we were leaving). If you see a clown in a gym, you should just leave. Immediately. But we were there, and we were being swarmed by sales reps and personal trainers wanting to sell and assess... I was hassled less than my friend but that's probably because I had this, "I can't believe I'm looking at a f-ing clown right now" look on my face... in what is supposed to be some premier gym and there are kids running around touching everything and coughing and drooling and all I want to do is get on a treadmill and run for 3 miles tops. So after about 20 minutes of walking around and getting our bearings, I finally hopped on a treadmill and did what I always do.... plugged in ear buds to my iPhone, picked a song, put it on repeat and then hit "Quick Start."
I was doing good...started slow, and every mile kicked it up a notch... but at mile 2 a woman got onto the treadmill next to me. I hate when this happens. I hate when this happens even more when there are 10 other treadmills not being used. I like to zone out when running so I gave her the once over and kept it moving... (by the way.... I have to in good conscience just put this out there... please don't wear animal print to the gym. Ever. It's wrong. And it's more wrong when you can't fit the print. It's almost sadder than the clown...)
So I'm running, and I'm not a fast runner so I'm gliding along at a leisurely pace and checking my email and I can feel her looking at me, and at my machine. And I'm running, and I'm thinking "if you don't stop looking at my screen..." but she keeps doing it. I don't care okay? I was running a 13 minute mile at that point and yes I know that's slow as hell, but what do I care? I'm not sitting on the couch so whatever. But it's annoying to have someone constantly turning to look at you and your stats while you run.
This lady by the way looked like she should be in a water aerobics class. Seriously. Plus I hear animal print is acceptable there. Anyway, I thought fine... you want to stare? And with that I upped my speed considerably. I'm not even going to tell you what I set it to but it was ridiculous and I had no business running that fast (especially since I am coming back from a workout layover). So I'm running fast, and feeling good...so good I don't even notice the woman has left... and I'm not feeling terrible. I didn't even feel...tired so I decided I would make it to 5 miles and call it quits, and at that point I felt I could have run 10 because all I had all day was coffee and tea... so I was highly caffeinated (I know...I'm replacing substances...already got the "junkie talk" multiple times from gym friend)...
So I had a quarter mile left to go and all of a sudden my speed drops, and it throws me off and I'm like "What just happened?" And the machine is cutting me off...it's saying "COOL DOWN." And I'm like "No F-ing Way are you shutting me down when I have a quarter mile left..." so I'm pushing the speed up and it's forcing its way back down and I do this about four times while other club members are looking at me like I'm crazy...and then suddenly the machine just stops and says, "GOOD WORKOUT" So I am standing there fuming...pissed as all get out...and my friend says, "Are you done now?" and being the stubborn monster I am say, "like hell" and I hop over to the next treadmill...and start over. By the time I left the gym my slate gray t-shirt was charcoal. I felt good though..energized and I got a free crabcake! I know...eating at the gym..weird but it was there...and at least I wasn't the guy on the stationary recliner bike eating a chocolate Odwalla bar... I had to force myself NOT To take his picture...
As we're walking out towards the main lobby, my friend and I pass the clown and,...
Friend: There's nothing sadder than a clown."
Me: Yeah but haven't you heard...clown college is harder to get into than Harvard...that's saying something right?
Friend: Not really. I mean... think about it. If you (pointing at me) mess up at work....it's okay. People will live. But if that clown fails at his/her job... then basically that means they fail at making people happy!
Me: Well... yeah... I guess... wow. When you put it like that... that's f-d up though... don't say that. you're really messing up my endorphine high... I just had a great workout and you're making me feel bad about clowns...
Friend: Seriously... think about it. That clown doesn't even LOOK funny....that's why I just get sad when I see clowns.
Me: Well what about pirates?
Friend: Pirates?
Me: (Pointing to pirate with the biggest head I've ever seen...)
Friend: Let's get out of here.
Me: Yeah....
So today, I went to breakfast, had 2 bloody mary's and some of the best crabcakes ever and then went shopping, and tried to ignore the serious pain in my hips... damn that pirate clown gym. I also have to state again that it's day 28, and I think the newness of quitting has worn out (especially with friends and family) but I promise you,... I still think about it. I listened to Fast Car (Tracy Chapman) on the way home so you know...that's really bad... and I'm moody and not even running five miles helps. But I'm going to hang in there...and I believe that by the end of this... (if there ever is an end)... somehow I'll make it out okay.... maybe even better than before...
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