January 7
See if you can follow this train of thought:
This is email my mom and I exchanged this morning. I haven't edited a thing.
Mail #1: Dana to her motherThe snow was in three distinct layers: the top, a hard, icy cover, like an ice cream cone with magic shell! Under that, regular snow, but mooshy and wet, and under THAT, slick stuff. Ahh!!
#2: My mother replying to me:
How did the car handle - I am terrified of ice.
#3: Me to her:
My car is good in snow and ice, so it wasn't too bad. Shoveling was a pain in the butt, though
#4: Her to me:
I thought you had the auto shovel.
#5: Me:
Well, you still have to push the auto shovel!#6: Her:
not in brooklyn
#7: Me:
You don't have to push shovels in Brooklyn??#8: Her:
No and the snow is yellow and disappears.
#9: Me:
Oh, this will be here until may.
Here's where I lose track of the conversation:
#10: Her to me:
unfortunately smell is a predictor for Alzheimer's.
The end. I was so stumped by that non sequitur, I stopped emailing her.
In other news, I am sitting here waiting until it's time for me to leave for THE GYM and my GYM ORIENTATION. Here's what I've got going on:
Gym socks and sneakers. Check. Inappropriately short for winter gym pants leading to potential hypothermia and frostbite? Check!
Shirt and sweatshirt (both white!) Check and check!
I'm ready. Mostly. Except for the part I always struggle with, which is: exactly what do I do with my shit? I've tried to pare it down to minimum of stuff to carry, but at the VERY least, I need to bring keys. So that I can actually go home after the gym. I would happily cram them into a locker, but I don't have a lock and I'm TERRIBLE at remembering combinations. I've had to have not one, not two, not even THREE, but FOUR locks cut because there's a gaping vortex in my mind where locker combinations should be stored. Plus, I think I need to carry headphones so that I can jack into the television sets. You heard me. TELEVISIONS SETS. In the treadmills and elliptical machines. Damn straight I'm a bad ass.
3 Hours Later:
So, when they say "Orientation", what they mean is "Work out with a Personal Trainer". And when they say "personal trainer", they're not talking a Twitchy Steve (old school readers, you will remember Twitchy Steve as my previous personal trainer from Ballys, where the Ball Show went down), they're talking an honest to god muscle guy named Clinton who smelled nice and--I'm not kidding about this part because I wouldn't lie to you--SHAVES HIS ARMS. I'm not going to say anymore about that, I'm going to leave it out there so you can think about it.
Anyhow, I haven't set foot in a gym since October 2003 and that is a LONG time. So long, in fact, that I'm pretty much typing only because my arms are in too much pain to pull them down to my sides. Let my anguish be a cautionary tale: If you go to the gym, KEEP GOING. Don't stop and sit around every night for a year and a half playing Burning Monkey Solitaire and going out to eat. You will live to regret it when Clinton ("We had an easy night!!!") gets through with you. Tomorrow is going to be way worse, I just know it.
Lastly, it was obvious it was a Dana Unsupervised at Work Day, because I stumbled across a website and was unable to tear myself away to even get up and pee. Please, please go here. I'll wait.
You back? I hope you checked out the photo section, but mostly, I hope you checked out the writing. If you're not into clicking links, I will share what I found to be the best piece of writing EVER, and babies, it was difficult to choose. I quote:
"I felt as if my feet were cemented to the floor, I could not walk any further; I could only rotate around like a carousel. That is when I noticed something that changed my life forever. Right there in the middle of the little living room of my shore house was the worst feeling that I had ever felt in my life."
Right there?? In the middle of the living room!?! Pick it up, buddy!! You don't want to lose it! I appreciate his use of the semicolon. It's hard to use one when you're rotating around like a carousel.
I will grant that some of the girls are hotties, but for the love of jesus, LOOK AT THE GUYS. Ugh, they're awful. Are they the missing link? I'm thinking yes. Anyway, take a look at the site, it gave me a full day of joy.
yesterday - home - email - soon