Over the weekend I tried really hard to keep up with my workouts, but I was just feeling so tired and lazy and I was so sucked into Downton Abbey (more on that in a couple of days) that I did kind of a terrible job going. I did manage to go to the gym on Saturday, but it wasn't a great workout. I tried to do my run, but I swear, the track has completely killed my legs. I got about two minutes into the run and my shins seized up so bad it felt like a gremlin had attached itself to my leg and was cutting off all circulation and movement. I had to quit early, and everyday I see the Vancouver run slip further and further from my mind. It's a terrible combination of being unmotivated and genuine pain when I run at the gym. It doesn't make for a great workout. Once I quit running and had spent 15 minutes rubbing the pain out of my shins, I decided I would get on the bike and elliptical to at least get some exercise. To say there were some interesting characters there would be an understatement of epic proportions.
The bikes and ellipticals at the gym face the basketball court, so you can watch the tv attached to your machine, or you can just watch the people playing basketball in front of you. Since it was a Saturday afternoon, I opted to watch the pick-up game going on in front of me. I did not regret that decision. The first person that really caught my eye was a 30-ish year old guy, we'll call him Reggie (his friends call him Cornbread). Reggie was probably 5'5 (GENEROUS) with bad teeth, a beer gut and neck tattoos. Lucky for all the ladies in the building, Reggie was on the skins team, and I couldn't help but notice he had a very distinct wife beater tan. Might I remind you that it's February in North Dakota, so the only POSSIBLE way he's keeping those tan lines is that HE'S ACTUALLY GOING TO THE TANNING BED IN A WIFE BEATER. There are so many layers or white trash there that I can't even begin to dissect that. To complete the look, Reggie wore super long and baggy basketball shorts, though in his defense he probably has a hard time finding any that aren't too long on him. He had on shooting sleeves like Allen Iverson wore on both arms,
Once that game ended and Reggie's team lost, a bunch of new clowns showed up trying to get into the new game. I couldn't believe how many 20 something year old guys were trying to get in the game to play with middle schoolers. Maybe you should stick to playing full grown men. (Sorry Reggie) One guy joined in the next game was really fun for me to watch because he was obviously very pleased with himself. I'm 100% positive he volunteered to be on the skins team because even before the teams were set, he whipped off his shirt and looked around, hoping to spot some of his admirers. Well he spotted me, but unfortunately for him I was laughing so hard I was crying. He was in good shape, but his pecs were just a bit too large for my liking. I'm a flat chested girl and I really don't care to see a man work himself up to a C cup. It was also clear from the way he kept stroking his stomach, that he probably sits at home, compulsively doing 8 minute abs. "Okay I need to leave for work in an hour, so I can do 8 Minute Abs 7 times!" The problem was (besides the disgusting vanity), once the game started, I realized he ran like a girl. To be more specific, he ran exactly like cheerleaders do when they're running in place--chest leaning forward, arms clapping, feet kicking your butt. I was surprised to actually see him move anywhere with that form because, like I said, I only see cheerleaders do it when they're standing in one place. I would've thought it was impossible to propel yourself forward with that motion without falling on your face.
Once I finished on the machines, I went into the locker room to get my stuff. There was a rowdy bunch of white trash in there, reeking of smoking. In the 4 minutes it took me to change into my sweats and put my boots on, I must have heard the F word 75 times. From what I could gather, that's the only word in the English language they had a strong grasp on. Everything else was either tensed wrong, misspoken, or used in the wrong context. The ringleader walked past me as I was gathering up my things and went to stand in the doorway of the locker room so she could watch "her man" play basketball (here's hoping it was Reggie!). Obviously she wasn't much for modesty since she stood there, straight out of the lap pool (more likely lazy river), dripping water all over the carpet, in her bathing suit which did not cover a single one of her 300+ lbs of curves. I'm not sure how it didn't bother her, because I felt like her nipples were only centimeters away from popping out of that top. Maybe that's what she was going for.
This Saturday night, I went to dinner with a few other girls whose fiances work with Jacob. They're super nice girls and I really like them a lot, but it was just kind of a weird dinner. They spent about 15 minutes talking about how they didn't like to watch tv, had no interest in it, and fell asleep whenever they sat down to watch anything. Anyone who knows me knows that I take that as a personal insult, since I've always considered the tv to be one of my closest friends. If I had been on a first date and someone said that he didn't like tv, I'd probably do a spit take, throw my drink in his face, then storm off. If you're going to insult something I love, I can't see how this relationship can go on. Despite that, dinner continued and someone brought up the movie theater in town. I said that I was going to see The Hunger Games next month NO MATTER WHAT and they all looked at me with blank stares. They didn't know what it was and seemed confused. I thought they must be kidding, but no, they hadn't heard of the book series or the movie coming out, even though it's A BIG FREAKING DEAL. But I can't fault them for that, since they must not have the internet. I just....I don't know about these girls. They're great and all, but if they have no concept of pop culture, I can't even imagine that we'll have anything to really ever talk about. Think about all the good Nicholas Cage jokes, Full House references, and Dance Moms breakdowns they'll be missing out on.
When Jacob came home yesterday, he brought me my Valentine's Day present. Here's how I know Jacob is great, he sees tacky, flashy Nike running shorts and knows I'll love them. He found some awesomely bad running shorts with yellow and lime green stripes and hot pink trim and knew they'd be my pick. I can't even lie--I would have bought them in a heartbeat. He also bought me a super awesome track jacket and a James Avery ring that I love. I never would have picked it out for myself, but I super love it. He seriously did a great job.
Also, I was able to give him his Valentine's present, which was Rosetta Stone, Spanish edition. Spanish is a love language so that should count for romantic present, right? Really, we both just want to re-learn Spanish so we can speak it in public and freak out the locals here.
I was inspired by Aimee and decided to make Rice Krispie treats last night for the first time in my life. I'm not sure how I managed to make it 26 years without ever making them on my own, but I did. 24 hours after making the, 75% of the 9x13 pan is gone, and I'm not sure Jacob has had more than one square. The next time I make them, I plan on making Cake Batter Rice Krispie Treats. They have sprinkles, so they're guaranteed to be delicious. I'll let you know how they turn out.
No comments:
Post a Comment