Thursday, November 28, 2013

Am I a creep?

The other day I took a piece of cake to go from a birthday party. I had every intent of eating it later that night after dinner, but I hadn't even made it a few blocks away from the party when I decided I wanted it right then and there. I fumbled around then pulled out a fork from my center console. After sensing some judgement coming from shotgun, I asked, "Doesn't everyone stash away an emergency fork?"

Apparently the answer is no, and according to my passenger, I am a weirdo.  I started to think of all the other things I regularly do that warrant stares from strangers or at least cause my friends to raise an eyebrow.  The more I thought about, the more I realized that I may or may not be a total creep.

On that note, I was wondering does anyone else...

Make ugly faces at yourself in the mirror just to see how disgusting you can be?

Run up the basement stairs on all fours because you know whatever is down there is about an inch away from grabbing your ankle and dragging you back to hell with it?

Find food in your cleavage from God knows when and eat it anyway?

"Dougie" while in the shower?

Have more conversations with your pet than actual people?

Eat one of everything in the house because string cheese, four Cheetos, a handful of M&Ms, two strawberries, a few bites of cold pizza, and a Pop Tart are a perfectly acceptable dinner?

Chug a ton of water then push your stomach out as far as it will go and walk around with your hands behind your back like you are pregnant just to see what you would look like simultaneously scaring your boyfriend and yourself shitless?

Pull up next to the person who cut you off, roll down the window and clap/congratulate them on beating you to a red light? (I am totally going to get murdered one day for sure.)

Randomly talk in weird accents when calling Comcast or someone you have never met?

Constantly moon your best friend because they never tire of seeing your giant pale ass at random?

live in a musical where any situation or mundane task can be turned into a song?

Press all the buttons on the controller at the same time as hard and fast as possible rather than take two seconds to actually learn what the three of them do?

Uh yeah, me neither.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Bitches at my gym.

Those of you who know me in real life are aware that I recently joined a gym.  I truly hate working out, but it was either that or invest in some elastic waist pants since mine were leaving such deep indentations, one may think I was trying to start some new body modification trend.

I bought some yoga pants and a new pair of Nike shoes and thought I was ready to take on the world...or at least the elliptical for 20 minutes until the paramedics were called.

I was always under the impression that the gym was a place to which you give a portion of your paycheck to use its services. Anyone who has ever bought a piece of exercise equipment knows that after a few months, it will become a coat rack, therefore you must join a gym so you constantly feel bad paying for something you don't use. However, everything else I thought I knew about going to the gym was way off.

For starters, I was unaware that if you are female and wish to be a part of any exercise based establishment, you must own a pair of Lululemon yoga pants regardless if you have never done yoga or even know what the word yoga means. While I thought I was one step ahead of the game by not working out in nacho stained pajamas, instead my Old Navy ones had me feeling like I was carrying a Prado handbag at a Prada fashion show.

In addition to my fashion faux pas, I missed the memo stating I must have pageant hair and a full face of make-up just in case the paparazzi are waiting outside. Keep in mind you must also be a beautiful shade of bronze in the middle of the winter. After a few visits, I'm starting to think people may be unimpressed with my legs being so white they are actually clear. No folks she is not Albino, just naturally that pale. Ooooh, Ahhhhh!

It is also widely known that no female under any circumstance should sweat. You are allowed to look only slightly flushed, but if one bead runs down your forehead you might as well be Mariah Carey after making "Glitter." God forbid you look like shit while you are simultaneously sweating your ass off/dying. Apparently, breathing like Darth Vader in lamaze class is also frowned upon.

In order to be part of a gym you must also blast either really bad techno music or old Britney Spears so everyone around you can hear 1998 through your headphones. I guess no one is going to believe you are serious about your work out if you are listening to actual music.

I have also gathered that it is far better to sit on/stand next to any given piece of equipment rather than use it. Why would you actually want to lift weights when you can just hang out by them and play on your phone? It must be widely known that looking at a treadmill burns just as many calories as running on one.

*Also note that you must check in on Foursquare or post a picture to Instagram because everyone knows your "work out" didn't really count unless everyone knows about it.