Magnus Samuelsson ain't got nothin' on me

I joined a gym today. I had previously been a member of particular lady gym that shall remain nameless (but not lame-less). I was kind of unhappy there and the ladies who worked there were bitches. I already had kind of crappy self-esteem so I don't really need Nazi work-out ladies riding my ass while I was trying to tone that exact same ass.

So after putting in a year at the lady gym, one of my friends suggested I join the gym he was going to. I'm all for breaking a sweat with friends (nothing strengthens the bond between friends like sweating profusely and grunting excessively*) so I agreed.

I'd been a member of this gym before when I was younger so I wasn't too nervous about going back. When I was a member of LA Fitness, I had to give myself a half hour pep talk and drink three Red Bulls before I could even step foot inside. And even then I could only spend twenty minutes on a machine before the voice in my head that said "HOLYSHITEVERYONEISLOOKINGATMECAUSEI'MSWEATINGTOOMUCH" took over and I became two breaths away from being the gym's resident crazy lady. It was a bad scene.

But this gym is more laid back. Nobody cares what you're doing and I like that. I feel good about this change. I've lost a good amount on my own just kind of half-assing it, so now that I'm thinking about maybe possibly putting in a solid effort maybe the rest of what I want to lose will come off easier and/or quicker. Plus I get really hyped up on the endorphins and by the time I leave there I'm relatively positive I could bench press a Volkswagon Beetle if I needed to. In fact, today when I left, I gave a fellow gym goer a high five and accidentally launched him across the parking lot.** Guess I don't know my own strength, which can happen when you look like this:


This is me. Actual size too. Jealous?


* That's what she said.
** This may or may not have happened.

Weekend Shenanigans

I realize it's not the weekend anymore. I was busy and didn't have time (read: was too lazy) to blog. What was I doing? I'm glad you asked (read: get ready for this week's blog post).

Friday

I should start by saying that I don't do girly things. I was raised with brothers and even my girl cousins were alway a little tomboyish. I don't do facials, I don't really get together with my girlfriends and watch "Sex and the City" and I'm not really one to paint nails or do make-up together with my lady pals. Yet on Friday evening, I pretty much did all of those things. Ria (of my Gossip Girl/OTH post fame) invited me over to watch movies and do facials. In the spirit of trying new things, I agreed. Here is what happened:

Looks like a good night, right? Then this happened:

I looked like a ghost. My face was whiter than my shirt and I'm pretty sure I scared myself by looking in the mirror at least once (read: three times).

Ria was having way more fun than me.

Saturday

Someone in my office told me about Oktoberfest. Since I've turned 21, I really want to go to things like this just to prove that I can. It's really weird, but I get a tremendous amount of joy when someone asks me for my ID. It's like, "Suck it, I can totally drink." I'm trying to tone down my looks of satisfaction.

I convinced Marcos, Holly and Jassem to accompany me to Tucson's own Oktoberfest (read: in the middle of a ball park). It was fun! We got some drinks, Marcos and Holly got down with some Greek food, and a good time was had by all.

Oh that guy? That's my pal Jassem and his amazing hand face. I know, science should study him. That's what I keep saying.

I'd like to take a second to discuss the food situation. This Oktoberfest felt a little like the fair. There were booths where you could get food and beer, and then seperate booths where you could buy things or play games. Everyone was filling their bellies with beer and food, and we saw this guy.

I don't get people and their need to consume huge pieces of meat. But this guy, this guy was classic and not to mention, very enthused about devouring that baby thigh. Then Holly and I decided we'd really like pickles. You know, those gigantic ones that only taste good when you're walking around in public, suckling them and generally looking really inappropriate. We waited a ridiculous amount of time in a really long line, only to discover that we're really stupid and there were plenty of stands with pickles that did not have a line the size of Germany. We got our pickles, and some of us were less pleased than others.

Also, wtf is happening with my hair? It's like it's eating my face in order to try and get closer to that damn pickle. And apparently pickles turn me into a mutant. Weird.

After the Great Pickle Search of 2008, we capped the night off with a bag of kettle corn the size of my leg (read: Holly's body).

Love at first site.


This picture was mostly taken to illustrate the classiness of the evening. If posing with kettle corn next to empty kegs of Coors Light doesn't scream sophistication, I don't know what does.

The rest of the weekend was great too. Hamlet in the park, watching movies, being lazy and late night drinking with friends made it a great weekend. Sometimes I forget how awesome my friends are and then weekends like this come and I'm like, "Oh yeah, this is why I continue to know these people." Duh.

Halloween For The Ladies

Whew! Today at work my computer crashed AND it was map inventory day. So, needless to say, doing actual work today was quite tiring. Also, I don't understand how people used to function without a computer. I mean, I know I had a life before computers but it couldn't have been that great, right? I don't know how I could've functioned all those years without knowing what celebrities were up to or what free stuff was up for grabs on Craigslist.

Anyway, do you know what today is? October 1st! So it is officially the first day of my Halloween costume search. I did what all Halloween enthusiasts do and went to Google. So here I am, searching costumes and I see that the women's costumes are are surprisingly similar.







I think it's pretty safe to say that the designers of women's Halloween attire pretty much follow this equation:




I don't know that I feel comfortable showing off my lady bits in Spandex outfits just yet. But I am considering being a contestant from Legends of the Hidden Temple (Team Blue Barracuda, of course) or Velma from Scooby Doo. Because Velma was a hip, hip lady who never got any play.