May 16
 
 

Raar! We liked Mexico pretty well.  This is us at the outdoor market,  I was like "woah, look at the little tiny hat!"  and some guy was all like "100 pesos!! 100 pesos!"  and I was like "I don't have any money! I'm a monster!"  So remember what I did?  Right.  I ate him.  Then his friend took this picture.  Ole!
 
 

He says "You're not going crazy, you're just under stress.."

Ever get an idea in your head that you just can't shake?  It happened to me a few weeks ago at the gym, and since that time, I can not lose the image.  I am in Weight Training For Chickies.  I am lying on my step,  which means it's chest or tricep fun time.  I am staring at the ceiling, absentmindedly listening to the instructor count and sort of thinking, gently about the good I'm doing for my chest or the pain I'm in or something along those lines.  I then notice I'm lying directly below a hanging light.  A shaking, swinging, trembling light.  For the remaining 40 minutes of the class, I am unable to stop thinking that the light is going to pulsate itself loose, crashing down upon my sweaty, stinky body.  I sneak peeks up at it throughout the class.  I am convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am going to be crushed.

Of course, the story ends without me being crushed, I finish the class and go off on my merry way.  I skip a week, because, well, I'm in Mexico with my mom because my mom loves me more than yours love you.  I get back.  I return to class.  I find myself under a different light.  Same thing.   Yesterday, again, same thing.  I could not stop thinking about what would happen.  "When this light hits me, will I have the  presence of mind to move the fuck out of the way?  Will a light bulb hit a weight, bounce off, and impale jagged slivers in my eye?  Will everyone laugh?   Will there be an ambulance?  Will I get blood in my lycra? Will it stain my new shoes?  Will I be able to sue Bally's and have a free personal trainer forever?  Will I deserve actually being hit since I told the big fat lie to Monica that the reason I was absent from the gym for 5 months was because I broke my leg riding my bike when I was training for the AIDSride and was in physical therapy?  Will a shard of glass cut that smug bitch next to me in half?  That would be cool!  Wow, little chinese lady, I can't even imagine why you bother!  Wait till the light gets in you!"

Every week, this is what I think of.  No, there's no point to the story.  I'm just telling a story is all.  Just so you know.  Heh.  Yep.  Lights are coming to kill me.  Everything's fine.  Nothing to see here, move it along...
 

Don't  Hate Me Because I'm So Worldly and Traveled  (shut up, I didn't say wordy, you freaks):

Next week, I'm going to California! Nick has to go out there for some Gigantic Important Moving Of Computer Equipment.  I have to go because I've never been to California.  Anyone out there near Santa Cruz?  That's where I'll be.  Besides the Mystery Spot (which, to confess my dorkiness, I'm so excited about seeing, I actually dreamed of it last night) and some gigantic pier with rides, is there anything else there besides beach?  Not that I'm against beach, as you all well know.  I am extremely pro beach.  A chair.  A blanket.  A book.  A drink.  A beach.  A perfect vacation, for Dana.  So, in any case.  That's where I'll be.  Any suggestions?  I was told that Santa Cruz was "a cool town, filled with hippies and surfers"  which leads me to wonder:  will I be the fattest chick on the beach?  I certainly hope so.  Bringing my East Coast Flab and bad attitude out to the West Coast, excellent!  And what do you California people wear?  What is the weather like?  Will there be an earthquake?  Do I need to have my teeth bleached and capped?  My hair frosted?   I can not even fathom what things are like there.  It's like going to another planet, in my head, you know?  Will people be all mellow?  Am I going to get shot on the highway, or is that just in Los Angeles?

My totally NY-centric East Coastified version of California is a gross and undoubtedly completely unjustified picture in my head (I have tons of ideas of what other people's states are like.  Curious about what I think of your home town? just ask me!  I have a lot to say about Midwesterners, especially after being in Mexico!) of head-sized fake boobs, men and women walking around in thong bikinis, big teased out hair like a---wait! I know just how I imagine it--California, in my head, is like the David Lee Roth video for California Girls.  All parts of it.  Except for maybe San Francisco, which I imagine being full of people like in Tales of the City.  And the people from San Francisco NEVER hang anywhere else.  Like, the Los Angeles big hairs  can't chill with the wacky kids of Barbary Lane.  I know.  I know.  I'm sorry.  I'm sure California is going to be great.  I've never see the Pacific Ocean.  And the Mystery Spot?  Well, if you've already been there and know it sucks, just don't tell me.  I don't want to know.
 
 
 
 

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