Unnecessary tears

I'm sitting on the stationary bike at the gym listening to some yuppy podcast and watching the (soundless) morning news on one of the TVs. A Hallmark card commercial comes on with an extended family sitting around the dinner table. It is the matriarch's birthday and she is opening a card from, seemingly, one of her relatives. You see her read the outside of the card and open it up to reveal the words "Happy Birthday Love, So-and-So." (It didn't actually say So-and-So, but I don't remember the name.) But that's it. That's all it says inside. And yet, she continues to stare at the inside of the card. Close up on her face to reveal that she's on the verge of tears after receiving such an emotional, heartfelt card. And there I am completely bewildered by this. She has spent 6 seconds reading 4 words, is STILL staring at the nearly blank card, and is close to weeping. What the fuck? Is this woman mentally retarded? I think to myself that Hallmark is way overdoing it and no one cares this much about a friggin' birthday card when the words "Hallmark Recordable Greeting Cards" comes on the screen. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, okay. I get it now.

Pardon the Interruption

I went to the gym around 5:30 tonight instead of at 6:00 this morning.  I don't normally like working out in the afternoon because I feel heavier and it just feels strange to exercise after my day is almost done.  Anyway, so I'm there moving my legs back and forth quickly on the elliptical, my feet experiencing this weird burning sensation that I'm not sure a) how it starts or b) how to get rid of it, when I look up at the 7 treadmills in front of me.  And on each treadmill is a 20-something "dude."  And on each tv screen in front of each of the 20-something "dudes" is ESPN.  I felt like I was in some strange robotic, futuristic movie.  Then I thought about the clientele who frequent the gym at 6am.  And it's mostly the female version of these robots.  Granted, TMZ and The Hills aren't on that early in the morning, so they're stuck watching Doug Meehan give helicopter traffic reports, but still.  Same thing.  

Don't get me wrong.  I'm glad that all these people are working out.  I would much rather be surrounded by pretty, skinny people than fatty fat fat fats.  But there's still no denying that I feel like I'm in a machine when I go to that gym.  

I especially thought the "dude" who checked out every girl who walked by or went to the paper towel dispenser was particularly lame.  He wasn't even trying to hide it.  He DID have nice biceps, though.  Dammit, Lisa!

Where is the friggin' double click on this mother?

Here's what I like about twitter.  I can post "heh heh hehn knitting" (CLEARLY a reference to Pee Wee's Big Adventure) and all of a sudden I will get an email telling me that Nancy Queen is now following my tweet.  Turns out, Nancy Queen is somewhat of a knitting freak and probably tags words like "crochet" "knit" "old grannies" and "fibercon" in any and all tweets.  Maybe I'll post some fake updates just for her.  Something along the lines of "Just finished my 47th hat; this has got to be a one day record!"  Or maybe "Has anyone successfully crocheted a g-string?  My mom's birthday is tomorrow and I'm screwed!"

Life advice #89:  If you make lentils with a lot of garlic and then put them in the fridge for leftovers, your entire fridge will soon smell like an anti-vampire convention (or at least I can only assume).  Needless to say...don't do that.

Tonight I opened a brand new Sweatin' to the Oldies.  This was one of the originals.  The VHS was still in the plastic wrapping and the fatties on the front were wearing acid washed jeans.  Totally retro, totally awesome.  It's just too bad that I can't figure out how to get my living room VCR working.  So now my only choice is to watch it on my bedroom tv while I fall asleep.  I'm pretty sure only bad things can happen when entering REM at the same time Richard Simmons is yelling at you to firm your ass cheeks.  

One of these days I will either fall off the treadmill whilst running or, after stepping off the treadmill, I will be so dizzy and discombobulated that I will stumble into someone else's crotch while they're on the elliptical.  Either way the gym will become verrrrrry awkward after that.  I'll keep you posted.