(no subject)

I got to the gym about 15 minutes early last night for my 7pm appointment with the trainer, so I got on a bike and started warming up. I spotted the trainer across the floor with her 6 o'clock client. Picture a very tall woman, early to mid thirties, probably, which huge knockers. Huge. And no bra. At the gym. It made me ache just looking at her. Yowsa.

Jen set me up with an alternative resistance program - same muscles, all different exercises - and told me that my strength impressed her. I don't think it's anything to get excited about, but she said I was a lot stronger than she'd expected. Good stuff. Maybe there's some real muscle hiding just beneath my soft outer layer. :)

Jeremy took my CD player home by mistake, so I had to borrow Dad's for the gym. He was not too happy to fork it over, but he did, so I'm thankful. It was only when I got to the gym that I realized he'd taken the foam earphone cover thingies off, so as I sweat, the earphones were just slipping all over my face. That was really bothering me, so I hopped off the elliptical after 22 minutes and ran to Best Buy with about 3 minutes before closing time. I picked up some ear buds, the Walk the Line soundtrack (SO GOOD!) and the deluxe edition DVD of Waiting. It's the unrated version, which I imagine means we get to see the execution of the manuevers discussed in the game - if you haven't seen the film, I won't spoil it for you:)

I don't have plans yet for tonight, but I'm really hoping to get together with some friends and watch either Walk the Line or this new Waiting DVD I picked up. I may try to go back to the gym, too, but I'm pretty sore. We'll see. Get in touch if you wanna do something...

Peace.

(no subject)

I'm a little irritated.

There's this pizza joint on the mall here called Christian's. It's delicious. They have every kind of pizza you could possibly imagine. In fact, they have every kind of food you could possibly imagine, and they put it on their pizzas. I was itchin' for a tortellini pizza from there today for lunch, so I walked down there to get one. The place was absolutely swarmed with children. In fact, the whole mall is. It's like ten elementary schools just dropped off anyone 10 and under on the mall and told them to let loose. They're everywhere. So when I was told it would be "a few minutes" on the tortellini pizza, I just asked for cheese instead, to escape the madness as quickly as possible. But now I'm pissed, because it's practically sacrilege to get a plain slice of pizza from Christians. Damn kids.

The only thing I hate more than children is an uncontrolled crowd of them. Grr. Okay, I don't really hate kids. I actually like them a lot, usually. But I don't like them in adult places. Kids are great when you meet them in their territory - their homes, their schools, playgrounds, etc. When kids can be in their element, they're a lot of fun. But when kids are in public places where they have the potential to interrupt my daily business or relaxation time, that is not cool. It's not kids' fault. They don't know any better, or you can't blame them for getting bored in a fancy restaurant or grocery store or hair salon. But to all the parents out there who think their children are perfect angels - I bite my thumb at you. There are kids out there who ARE perfect angels - but those parents aren't the ones who think their kids are perfect - those are the parents who recognize that kids can be total devils and they discipline/control/teach them accordingly, so the kids actually behave in public. Hopefully at home, too.

More on parents...I was at the creperie waiting for my crepe the other day, and there were two women talking about their children while waiting for their own orders. I was sitting on a bench right next to one of them, and facing the other one. I was trying to read my book and focus on my soon-to-be-ready delicious dinner. But they wanted to talk about potty training, and one of them was talking about the vomit incident that her daughter had that morning. Now, okay, I can actually handle this kind of conversation. As long as I'm not actually watching someone puke or poop, I'm okay with the topic. But they didn't know that about me. They just assumed that it would be okay to talk about disgusting bodily functions in front of a complete stranger who was waiting for her dinner! Not cool. And they sat by me. I was there first. Bitches.

Then today, leaving the pizza place, I was on my way to the door, and there were kids running around like mad behind me. I just wanted to leave. Just as I reach for the handle, a mother gets to the door on the other side. She's got a stroller, and she's with another woman who also has a kid in the stroller. You'd think they'd let me out, right? No. They just pushed their strollers at me, blocking my way out, and forcing me press against the wall so they didn't run over my feet (the entrance to Christian's is a skinny little hallway). The ordeal of getting two strollers through the door and out of the hallway took an excruciatingly long time, and I was steaming the whole time over the munchkin infestation. Now, if they had let me out, not only would that have been the polite thing to do (letting me out wouldn't hold up their progress nearly as much as they held up mine), but I would've held the door for them. Even though I hate it when people take their babies into restaurants (they cry, they poop, they stink up the whole joint - I don't care how cute your kid is; if I get a whiff of that diaper, I've lost my appetite, and I spent money on this food, dammit), I would've been nice and held the door. Because that's what people do. But did those bitches hold the door open for me after they'd made their way in? No. Harumph. Now, would I be able to live up to my own standards of not inflicting the presence of children on innocent adults? No, because I recognize that sometimes you've just gotta bring that kid along. But I have decided that since I could never live up to my own expectations of what a mother should be, I'm not going to have children and go making myself a hypocrite.

I guess it turns out that I'm a lot irritated. Oh well.

And I'm sure your kids are great, really. I'm just a cranky old fart.

Peace.