Doesn't it seem statistically probable that at least one of us is a Russian spy?

::narrows eyes::

hmmm ... narrow eyes are a sign of sneakiness ....

Doesn't it seem statistically probable that at least one of us is a Russian spy?

Da...I mean, uh, darn right!

I just got back from my first session at a new gym.

Well, that was horrid. Never mind that I was the only one who showed up for this "intro class", so that was uncomfortable. Never mind that I showed up when he told me to (15 minutes early), only to find he wasn't going to be with me until the scheduled time - he was going to be over there exercising - he only told people that to make them not be late! I sat in my car seesawing between anxiety and exasperation. Exasperation won. I decided I wasn't going to run away like a little girl; I was going to give it a solid try, but if I hated it, I would feel no obligation to continue. That decision gave me enough self-confidence to get me through the half-hour.

The trainer irritated the hell out of me. "We're going to squeeze our glutes tight, now, all the way down!" and "Keep your arms up high for me, that's it!" We? For you? Bite me. I was doing this leaning-back pull-up thing, and he had his hand on my back. I said, "Do you really think you can catch me?" Son, I weigh two of you, and I'm a good six inches taller. You're a little thing. Even when I was a little thing, I was bigger than you. If you're going to keep standing behind me while I try to lift myself on these fucking rings, you're the one who needs to sign that hold-harmless waiver.

But it was the gym itself that sealed the no-deal. It was in a garage. A big, kinda dirty, non-air-conditioned garage, with no secure place to leave my things. Seriously? It's 80 degrees and humid, and all you've got is a big fan in the open door, and you expect me to do push-ups and squats and shite? I'm glad I took a couple hits off the inhaler (Albuterol, I love you) before I went in, or I would have probably had to quit for lack of oxygen. (I did do rather well on the rowing machine, though.) As much difficulty as I have getting myself to the gym with any regularity, I can't imagine I'll want to go to that one instead of to the air-conditioned clean secure gym I already belong to.

Just... No.

(Also, when a gym rep tells you, "Oh, we have members of all fitness levels! There'll be people just like you in the class!"? They are lying.) (I mean, they might not be lying, but it's a safe bet that the day you haul your rotting bloated carcass down there, it'll be Gym Rats Anonymous Day or something.)

x-posted with LJ, because I don't want to write about it twice.

y'all, I am almost done. for reals. like I am not even joking. a desk top and random kitchen-ness was what I had left to pack. I did one full box, got the desk stuff into a plastic bin that I had not filled. and I think there is just one more box worth of stuff.

Mac's bag for wed is all packed. One check on bag is 80% packed (leaving room for the toilitries still in the bathroom), my backpack is 80% packed (leaving room for the unexpected), dad's backpack is 10% packed, leaving room for whatever he brings.

now, dinner.

Then I am going to back up my harddrive onto a new harddrive out of fear of something getting destroyed in the move. Then I'll pack them in different boxes and all should be good, right?

The goal is mac asleep by 9 - 9:30. Dad's plane arrives at 10, so he'll be here around 10:30. I hope that we are in bed by 11. One of us needs to be out scoping a parking space for the movers by 8:30am and they will arrive by 9.

did I mention omg?

msbelle, I'm really going to miss you.

I mean, except for how you're not virtually going anywhere. But I'm just not good with other people changing. STOP IT, FOLKS.

ZK, I don't blame you for a second for walking away from that gym and that trainer. I do hate rah-rah personal trainers, but I get that some people need it. Not me, though.

Well, Zen, in a class of ONE everyONE was just like you!

But, yes - it sounds pretty gruesome. There has to be something better.

ita! I'll be closer to you. There are lots of places for MEAT in TX! It is hot. A LOT.

There are lots of places for MEAT in TX! It is hot. A LOT.

And cowboy boots. Why did no one tell me of their magic beforehand? I totally want a closetful now. I swear, they got me through Friday. And they're not even a fancy pair.

(Opera spellcheck suggests lustfulness for closetful --not the least appropriate)

I mean, except for how you're not virtually going anywhere. But I'm just not good with other people changing. STOP IT, FOLKS.

I even feel like that, and I just moved! Or, OK, I moved almost a year ago, but whatever.