Not record time, but not bad, either.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Adventures of an Ambivalent Gym Queen, Dispatch #092908
Gym Queen's Log, Workout Date 092908: First day back after the previous week's oral surgery fallout, which forced me to abandon my exercise routine. Was very nearly jock blocked by the Life Fitness service technicians, who took every EM out of service, but managed to talk them into letting me make out with my sweetie. Went for the usual 15-15 session before heading down for a shower and shvitz, which relieved a week's worth of sinus pressure. Ah!
Not record time, but not bad, either.
Not record time, but not bad, either.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Top 8 Songs: Week Ending September 27, 2008
1. "Youthless," Beck (from Modern Guilt)
2. "Rymden I En Låda," Detektivbyrån (from Wermland)
3. "Shulie A Bop," Sarah Vaughan (from Verve Jazz Masters 18: Sarah Vaughan)
4. "On the Street Where You Live," Mel Tormé (from Mel Tormé Swings Shubert Alley)
5. "Breakable," Ingrid Michaelson (from Boys and Girls)
6. "Tryin' Times," Roberta Flack (from First Take)
7. "Bachelorette," Björk (from Homogenic)
8. "Submarine #3," Starlight Mints (from The Dream that Stuff Was Made Of)*
* Sound sample from imeem.com
2. "Rymden I En Låda," Detektivbyrån (from Wermland)
3. "Shulie A Bop," Sarah Vaughan (from Verve Jazz Masters 18: Sarah Vaughan)
4. "On the Street Where You Live," Mel Tormé (from Mel Tormé Swings Shubert Alley)
5. "Breakable," Ingrid Michaelson (from Boys and Girls)
6. "Tryin' Times," Roberta Flack (from First Take)
7. "Bachelorette," Björk (from Homogenic)
8. "Submarine #3," Starlight Mints (from The Dream that Stuff Was Made Of)*
* Sound sample from imeem.com
Friday, September 26, 2008
Notes from Insomnia: September 26, 2008--5:47 AM (EST)
Note to self: Never have oral surgery again, or your bank will collapse while you're recuperating.
I can't believe Washington Mutual has ended up in such dire straits. Having financial problems is one thing; being shut down by the government is another. Just when you thought things couldn't become more dramatic, they've been sold to JP Morgan Chase.
JP Morgan Chase is a strong company, but I seem to recall them being heavy on the bank fees. Back in '99, I had friends who thought paying $40-45/month in bank fees was normal. Consequently, my faith in them maintaining the free checking account I and many others opened with them is nil.
Which begs the question: Where to now?--a far easier question to answer than "What happened to my money?" Thank God for FDIC.
I can't believe Washington Mutual has ended up in such dire straits. Having financial problems is one thing; being shut down by the government is another. Just when you thought things couldn't become more dramatic, they've been sold to JP Morgan Chase.
JP Morgan Chase is a strong company, but I seem to recall them being heavy on the bank fees. Back in '99, I had friends who thought paying $40-45/month in bank fees was normal. Consequently, my faith in them maintaining the free checking account I and many others opened with them is nil.
Which begs the question: Where to now?--a far easier question to answer than "What happened to my money?" Thank God for FDIC.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Adventures of an Ambivalent Gym Queen, Dispatch #092208
Gym Queen's Log, Workout Date 092208: Ran in for a last-hour quickie at 10:15 p.m. due to schedule delays and the usual misunderstandings that Mercury Retrogrades are made of. Consequently, I had only 45 minutes to run through the run-through.
Decided to bypass the swimming pool because of tomorrow's--which, at this hour, is actually today--adventures in oral surgery. Call me crazy, but something about being in a chlorinated pool with a blood-scarred mouth strikes me as unsavory. I'd like to think that I could hit the gym after the appointment, but desire and reality aren't always the BFFs they should be. (See, I'm jiggy!) I'll likely be too doped up on painkillers to be of any real use. Talk about a dumbell!
I digress: Hit on EM for the usual 15-15 (plus a 3-3 cooldown) and showered without the shvitzing--the health-club equivalent of shaken not stirred. Missed my Monday misty meditation moment, but there's always next time. Better luck then.
Decided to bypass the swimming pool because of tomorrow's--which, at this hour, is actually today--adventures in oral surgery. Call me crazy, but something about being in a chlorinated pool with a blood-scarred mouth strikes me as unsavory. I'd like to think that I could hit the gym after the appointment, but desire and reality aren't always the BFFs they should be. (See, I'm jiggy!) I'll likely be too doped up on painkillers to be of any real use. Talk about a dumbell!
I digress: Hit on EM for the usual 15-15 (plus a 3-3 cooldown) and showered without the shvitzing--the health-club equivalent of shaken not stirred. Missed my Monday misty meditation moment, but there's always next time. Better luck then.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Top 8 Songs: Week Ending September 20, 2008
1. "Youthless," Beck (from Modern Guilt)
2. "Aerial," Kate Bush (from Aerial)*
3. "Call the Law (featuring Janelle Monae)," OutKast (from Idlewild)
4. "Volcano," Beck (from Modern Guilt)
5. "Om Du Möter Varg," Detektivbyrån (from Wermland)
6. "Breakable," Ingrid Michaelson (from Boys and Girls)
7. "Soul Spaceship," MeShell Ndegeocello (from The World Has Made Me the Man of My Dreams)
8. "Buildings and Mountains," The Republic Tigers (from Republic Tigers - EP/Keep Color)
* Song and full album not available on iTunes
2. "Aerial," Kate Bush (from Aerial)*
3. "Call the Law (featuring Janelle Monae)," OutKast (from Idlewild)
4. "Volcano," Beck (from Modern Guilt)
5. "Om Du Möter Varg," Detektivbyrån (from Wermland)
6. "Breakable," Ingrid Michaelson (from Boys and Girls)
7. "Soul Spaceship," MeShell Ndegeocello (from The World Has Made Me the Man of My Dreams)
8. "Buildings and Mountains," The Republic Tigers (from Republic Tigers - EP/Keep Color)
* Song and full album not available on iTunes
Friday, September 19, 2008
Adventures of an Ambivalent Gym Queen, Dispatch #091908
Gym Queen's Log, Workout Date 091908: I may very well have stumbled upon a modern-day El Dorado. Went in at about 8:00-ish, and the place was, shall we say, "not crowded." The benefits of said vacancy were immediately felt; I had my choice of EMs to choose from, making me quite the eligible member among the machines. The easy access continued downstairs (let's keep it Christian, folks!) with the circuit machines and made for quite the great workout. No waiting, no overcrowding--just good times. Ah, if only it could always be so empty...they'd be out of business.
So jazzed was I about the absence of members that I stepped onto the basketball court to shoot some hoops. Those who know me...well...know I'm not big on contact sports. (Insert joke about me being single here.) My attitude is if you hit me, we're not playing--and all I'm thinking about is a way to keep the police from tracing your murder back to me.
But I digress: I made my first shot and felt like (insert basketball star here) for a few minutes, then struggled at the three-point line for what felt like an eternity. The struggle would've continued, but some guys came in, and since I wasn't interested in playing well--or at all--with others, I left.
Friday's definitely going to have to be a staple of my workout routine, though.
So jazzed was I about the absence of members that I stepped onto the basketball court to shoot some hoops. Those who know me...well...know I'm not big on contact sports. (Insert joke about me being single here.) My attitude is if you hit me, we're not playing--and all I'm thinking about is a way to keep the police from tracing your murder back to me.
But I digress: I made my first shot and felt like (insert basketball star here) for a few minutes, then struggled at the three-point line for what felt like an eternity. The struggle would've continued, but some guys came in, and since I wasn't interested in playing well--or at all--with others, I left.
Friday's definitely going to have to be a staple of my workout routine, though.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Adventures of an Ambivalent Gym Queen, Dispatch #091808
Gym Queen's Log, Workout Date 091808: Progress, lameness, and shame. I thought skipping the usual make-out session with EM would make for a stronger pool performance. Turns out I was wrong. Pulled the usual wheezefest after the first half-lap. Oh, the lameness! It was then I realized the emergency Cliff Bar I ate before stepping into the locker room was a bad idea--regardless how weak I was from hunger. Got the breathing back to normal and struggled back to the shallow end, embarrassed.
Asked the woman I shared the (slow) lane with how she managed the breathing thing. Her response: "Practice." She explained that it takes a while to get it together, and then asked how long I'd been at it. Her response: laughter. "Yeah--it takes a little longer than that. You're doing really well, though." I was then hipped to the abundance of how-to videos on the Internet. "See--there's more to do on the Web than the usual stuff," she laughed, alluding to porn...I think.
Asked the woman I shared the (slow) lane with how she managed the breathing thing. Her response: "Practice." She explained that it takes a while to get it together, and then asked how long I'd been at it. Her response: laughter. "Yeah--it takes a little longer than that. You're doing really well, though." I was then hipped to the abundance of how-to videos on the Internet. "See--there's more to do on the Web than the usual stuff," she laughed, alluding to porn...I think.
Also learned that stopping at the wall was actually a bad thing--that it slows the heart rate needed to maintain a strong pace. It all clicked when she compared it with jogging/running. So I tried it--and it kind of worked. My chest was still tight, and I could hear myself gasping for air, but it definitely beat waiting to catch my breath. At some point, I'm going to have to learn how to do the flip thing the competitive swimmers do, but...one stroke--and breath--at a time.
Struggled for another lap, then threw in the swim cap and goggles--which, I swear, were cutting off the blood flow to the cabeza--and headed for an S&S (shower and shvitz). Twas a measly three laps, but I did learn a lot, so the session wasn't a waste--at all. Still, my neck hurts. Baba's going to have to bust out the 'benzaprine.
Struggled for another lap, then threw in the swim cap and goggles--which, I swear, were cutting off the blood flow to the cabeza--and headed for an S&S (shower and shvitz). Twas a measly three laps, but I did learn a lot, so the session wasn't a waste--at all. Still, my neck hurts. Baba's going to have to bust out the 'benzaprine.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Adventures of an Ambivalent Gym Queen, Dispatch #091608
Gym Queen's Log, Workout Date 091608: Had planned to hit the gym earlier today, but the plans were waylaid, ironically enough, by the three-and-a-half hours I spent trying to maintain my health care coverage. Went in a fireball of frustration, hellbent on exorcising my rage via exercise.
And it worked. Made a beeline for EM and rolled into my newly usual 15-forward, 15-backward routine (avec three-minute cooldown). The latter met me head on and kicked my ass, forcing me to struggle through the last six-and-a-half minutes like a mofo. As a result, my shirt was so soaked with sweat, I had to throw my shirt into the spin-dry doohickey that extracts the water from swim trunks. Made me wonder whether I should buy enough Shamwow to make a workout shirt--a sure sign I've been watching too much Project Runway.
The adventure continued downstairs with the circuit machines. I worked on the arms/back before getting jiggy with the legs. Even learned the names of the machines I used (fancy!), which are:
Despite having to wait for fellow members to wrap it up (lessons/lessens in sharing), the workout went by quickly. So I treated myself to the usual shower-and-shvitz combo. Ran into a gumdrop-shaped elder guy I nicknamed Herv--based on the untoward word it rhymes with. I understand that one runs the public showering experience involves being stared at, but I'm not big on being openly leered at by someone old enough to be my granddad. Guess I'm freaky that way.
Fell into a meditative state in the steam room, which resulted in a spiritual experience. I was sitting there, eyes closed, taking the vapor in, when it dawned on me that the feeling I get from shvitzing resembles what I can only describe as God's love. I'm not a religious person--though I am an ordained minister--but I do believe in Christianity's ideals: kindness, repentance, forgiveness, among others. I also understand that cruelty, wretchedness, and hatred are part of the human experience--and as such, are necessary for the sake of balance.
But I digress: I walked out of that steam room with a transcendent lightness that teetered on the line between equanimity and drowsiness and floated all the way home. In fact, I'm still floating. (And no, I'm not stoned/medicated--though the feeling is similar.) It's like that postcoital afterglow that comes from having had really good sex... Yeah. Great end to an awful day.
Before I left the gym, I overheard a guy (with a New York accent) talking to a cronie:
"The work is showing. You look really good. Your body--your shape--it's changing. You used to be boxier, but now you're slimming down, getting a little definition--it's good. I know you don't notice it, but I haven't seen you in, like, a couple of months, and I can tell you've been working."
And they say that men aren't nurturers! Ha!
And it worked. Made a beeline for EM and rolled into my newly usual 15-forward, 15-backward routine (avec three-minute cooldown). The latter met me head on and kicked my ass, forcing me to struggle through the last six-and-a-half minutes like a mofo. As a result, my shirt was so soaked with sweat, I had to throw my shirt into the spin-dry doohickey that extracts the water from swim trunks. Made me wonder whether I should buy enough Shamwow to make a workout shirt--a sure sign I've been watching too much Project Runway.
The adventure continued downstairs with the circuit machines. I worked on the arms/back before getting jiggy with the legs. Even learned the names of the machines I used (fancy!), which are:
Despite having to wait for fellow members to wrap it up (lessons/lessens in sharing), the workout went by quickly. So I treated myself to the usual shower-and-shvitz combo. Ran into a gumdrop-shaped elder guy I nicknamed Herv--based on the untoward word it rhymes with. I understand that one runs the public showering experience involves being stared at, but I'm not big on being openly leered at by someone old enough to be my granddad. Guess I'm freaky that way.
Fell into a meditative state in the steam room, which resulted in a spiritual experience. I was sitting there, eyes closed, taking the vapor in, when it dawned on me that the feeling I get from shvitzing resembles what I can only describe as God's love. I'm not a religious person--though I am an ordained minister--but I do believe in Christianity's ideals: kindness, repentance, forgiveness, among others. I also understand that cruelty, wretchedness, and hatred are part of the human experience--and as such, are necessary for the sake of balance.
But I digress: I walked out of that steam room with a transcendent lightness that teetered on the line between equanimity and drowsiness and floated all the way home. In fact, I'm still floating. (And no, I'm not stoned/medicated--though the feeling is similar.) It's like that postcoital afterglow that comes from having had really good sex... Yeah. Great end to an awful day.
Before I left the gym, I overheard a guy (with a New York accent) talking to a cronie:
"The work is showing. You look really good. Your body--your shape--it's changing. You used to be boxier, but now you're slimming down, getting a little definition--it's good. I know you don't notice it, but I haven't seen you in, like, a couple of months, and I can tell you've been working."
And they say that men aren't nurturers! Ha!
Monday, September 15, 2008
Adventures of an Ambivalent Gym Queen, Dispatch #091508
Gym Queen's Log, Workout Date 091508: Three steps forward, one achy half-step back. I made the mistake of forgetting I had spinal surgery last year and am not allowed to lift anything heavier than 30 lbs. So my decision to flip my queen-size mattress (save the wisecracks for the comments section) by myself yesterday cost me--and mi espalda--dearly.
Woke up groggy from the cyclobenzaprine and fearful of screwing up my back further, so I made the executive decision to refrain from hitting the pool as planned. I packed my workout clothes anyway, intent on going in for the sake of maintaining momentum. Performed my physical therapy stretches and, by the time I was done, felt well enough to make out with EM.
More hot than heavy; refrained from getting handsy with the moving handlebars and kept the arms stationary (for the love of ol' espalda) while the legs went to work. Fifteen minutes forward (three-minute cooldown) and backward. Very strange, this reverse-stepping business. Disoriented by the physical sensation of what felt like skipping backward in spastic motion; my mind recalled footage of me on the back of my cousin's three-speed bike, facing the opposite direction of the driver. "Yesterday Once More," (Amazon) indeed.
Convinced I'd pushed good fortune far enough, I headed downstairs for a shower and steam-room shvitz. Good, cleansing stuff. My back enjoyed it as well. I could have done without the torch-song stylings of one of my fellow seekers of clean, though. Aren't there enough performance venues on the subways and city streets? Guess I'm just a prick.
Also saw a guy whose unexposed skin was so pale that the rest of his tanned, freckled body looked dirty. Good thing he was in a shower! Had to look away to keep my OCD tendencies at bay.
Going to hit the 'benzaprine again before bed. Hopefully, I'll be able to hit the circuit machines--lightly, of course--tomorrow. Got to "keep it moving," as the young people say.
Woke up groggy from the cyclobenzaprine and fearful of screwing up my back further, so I made the executive decision to refrain from hitting the pool as planned. I packed my workout clothes anyway, intent on going in for the sake of maintaining momentum. Performed my physical therapy stretches and, by the time I was done, felt well enough to make out with EM.
More hot than heavy; refrained from getting handsy with the moving handlebars and kept the arms stationary (for the love of ol' espalda) while the legs went to work. Fifteen minutes forward (three-minute cooldown) and backward. Very strange, this reverse-stepping business. Disoriented by the physical sensation of what felt like skipping backward in spastic motion; my mind recalled footage of me on the back of my cousin's three-speed bike, facing the opposite direction of the driver. "Yesterday Once More," (Amazon) indeed.
Convinced I'd pushed good fortune far enough, I headed downstairs for a shower and steam-room shvitz. Good, cleansing stuff. My back enjoyed it as well. I could have done without the torch-song stylings of one of my fellow seekers of clean, though. Aren't there enough performance venues on the subways and city streets? Guess I'm just a prick.
Also saw a guy whose unexposed skin was so pale that the rest of his tanned, freckled body looked dirty. Good thing he was in a shower! Had to look away to keep my OCD tendencies at bay.
Going to hit the 'benzaprine again before bed. Hopefully, I'll be able to hit the circuit machines--lightly, of course--tomorrow. Got to "keep it moving," as the young people say.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
The Car that Goes (Routan) Boom
This commercial and its star--the legendary Brooke Shields--are killing me:
She so nails the oblivious celebrity spokesperson thing: the uninformed assumptions (of consumer promiscuity for the sake of a Routan); her indifference to their explanations/reality; the steadfast determination to save others from the same "misguided" fate; and, of course, the couple's exasperation. Priceless.
"Don't be like Christine. Have a baby for love--not for German engineering." I know it isn't that funny, but...it kind of is!
UPDATED: But wait--there's more! There's a whole follow-up mockumentary (see below)!
Her face when the guy disputes the reverse vasectomy accusation is hysterical! She had to have gone to Black-Girl School to get that down! The rest of it is amusing enough--credits included. The whole thing gives new life to the phrase "Who do you have to fuck to get (insert desired goal here)?"
I don't plan on buying a Volkswagen anytime soon, but I am in love with Brooke Shields all over again (the first time being because of the 30-second spot).
She so nails the oblivious celebrity spokesperson thing: the uninformed assumptions (of consumer promiscuity for the sake of a Routan); her indifference to their explanations/reality; the steadfast determination to save others from the same "misguided" fate; and, of course, the couple's exasperation. Priceless.
"Don't be like Christine. Have a baby for love--not for German engineering." I know it isn't that funny, but...it kind of is!
UPDATED: But wait--there's more! There's a whole follow-up mockumentary (see below)!
Her face when the guy disputes the reverse vasectomy accusation is hysterical! She had to have gone to Black-Girl School to get that down! The rest of it is amusing enough--credits included. The whole thing gives new life to the phrase "Who do you have to fuck to get (insert desired goal here)?"
I don't plan on buying a Volkswagen anytime soon, but I am in love with Brooke Shields all over again (the first time being because of the 30-second spot).
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Top 8 Songs: Week Ending September 13, 2008
1. "Life Is Long," David Byrne and Brian Eno (from Everything That Happens Will Happen Today)
2. "Poses," Rufus Wainwright (from Poses)
3. "Boys of Summer," Don Henley (from Building the Perfect Beast)
4. "Anger," Marvin Gaye (from Here, My Dear)
5. "Shoot the Moon," Norah Jones (from Come Away with Me)
6. "All I Want," Joni Mitchell (from Blue)
7. "The Captain Will Be Your Guide," Crooked Hook (The Captain Will Be Your Guide)
8. "Om Du Möter Varg," Detektivbyrån (from Wermland)
2. "Poses," Rufus Wainwright (from Poses)
3. "Boys of Summer," Don Henley (from Building the Perfect Beast)
4. "Anger," Marvin Gaye (from Here, My Dear)
5. "Shoot the Moon," Norah Jones (from Come Away with Me)
6. "All I Want," Joni Mitchell (from Blue)
7. "The Captain Will Be Your Guide," Crooked Hook (The Captain Will Be Your Guide)
8. "Om Du Möter Varg," Detektivbyrån (from Wermland)
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Adventures of an Ambivalent Gym Queen, Dispatch #091108
Gym Queen's Log, Workout Date 091108: Pain and gain are now on equal footing, thanks to a 45-minute make-out session with EM. I get conflicted about indulging in public displays of affection, but it was so good and hot and heavy that I had no choice but to give in. Besides, it's early in our courtship--that sort of stuff will level out at some point. Hopefully not the hot-and-heavy stuff, though; the pores love it.
Headed for the pool, convinced I was ready for the 2012 Olympic games. Imagine my surprise when I had my lungs handed to me after the first half-lap. After puffing and panting on--not off, oddly--the deep end for what felt like 30 minutes but was actually five, I headed back--but not without taking two help-me-Jesus breaks along the way. The desire to flee was strong, but I forced myself to give it another go. I'd like to pat myself on the back for said bucking up, but the second lap was worse than the first.
Somewhere during one of my shallow-end breaks or panicked flailing, I realized my romance with EM might be part of the problem. Chemistry like ours, while invigorating, can wear a mutha out. I felt it in my calves as I was kicking and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to kick it. Also to blame: the 15-year span of time since my last (and first) swimming course. The mechanics of swimming haven't changed since then, so I'm guessing my expectations have. More to work on, I suppose.
Needing more to walk away from the experience with than heavy wheezing, I struggled through a third lap. Hopefully, they don't have video cameras or save each day's footage. If they do, the joke--as well as the cackling of the staff--is on me.
I rewarded myself with a good steam-room shvitz and was rewarded with far-too-forward advance of a fellow attendee. I gave him the business--just not the type he'd been looking for. Sorry, Buddy--EM's the only one I'm there to hook up with. Headed to the shower to continue washing the new-meat scent off, but I forgot to buy shower gel!
Reflective sneakers: good for nighttime jogging. I don't do any.
Escaped with shreds of dignity and a lot of residual soreness. Methinks I might be done for this week. And what a first week it has been! Part of me wants to go tomorrow, part of me worries about overdoing it, and the rest of me is ready for some rest.
Headed for the pool, convinced I was ready for the 2012 Olympic games. Imagine my surprise when I had my lungs handed to me after the first half-lap. After puffing and panting on--not off, oddly--the deep end for what felt like 30 minutes but was actually five, I headed back--but not without taking two help-me-Jesus breaks along the way. The desire to flee was strong, but I forced myself to give it another go. I'd like to pat myself on the back for said bucking up, but the second lap was worse than the first.
Somewhere during one of my shallow-end breaks or panicked flailing, I realized my romance with EM might be part of the problem. Chemistry like ours, while invigorating, can wear a mutha out. I felt it in my calves as I was kicking and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to kick it. Also to blame: the 15-year span of time since my last (and first) swimming course. The mechanics of swimming haven't changed since then, so I'm guessing my expectations have. More to work on, I suppose.
Needing more to walk away from the experience with than heavy wheezing, I struggled through a third lap. Hopefully, they don't have video cameras or save each day's footage. If they do, the joke--as well as the cackling of the staff--is on me.
I rewarded myself with a good steam-room shvitz and was rewarded with far-too-forward advance of a fellow attendee. I gave him the business--just not the type he'd been looking for. Sorry, Buddy--EM's the only one I'm there to hook up with. Headed to the shower to continue washing the new-meat scent off, but I forgot to buy shower gel!
Reflective sneakers: good for nighttime jogging. I don't do any.
Escaped with shreds of dignity and a lot of residual soreness. Methinks I might be done for this week. And what a first week it has been! Part of me wants to go tomorrow, part of me worries about overdoing it, and the rest of me is ready for some rest.
Adventures of an Ambivalent Gym Queen, Dispatch #091008
Gym Queen's Log, Workout Date 091008: Day Two was good. God bless the people at Life Fitness! Call it premature intimacy, but I think I'm falling for the elliptical machine. Had a great 45-minute booty (as in giving it a workout) call before heading to the circuit machines. Don't know what any of them are called, but names seem too formal for such close personal friends.
The new-meat thing is still in effect, as evidenced by the flirty grins of fellow members. Thankfully, though, no shower propositions. Realized the shower soap is making me itch, which means I'm going to have to add shower gel and a bath sponge to my supplies. Yes, life is hard.
Locker room culture is a curious affair. Makes me feel like I'm on Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. Saw a guy tuck in his stomach as he viewed his tighty-whitie-clad figure in the mirror. Another scratched his balls and threw someone a clean towel--with the same hand. Also eavesdropped on a multigenerational (20s, 30s, 60s, 70s) quartet of various ethnicities as they talked about their racquetball game, the intrigue of Fringe, Freaks and Geeks, Netflix downloads, Hulu, DVD duplication, and other secrets of the universe.
Decided not to go bonkers and to leave the pool for tomorrow (which, by now, is today). Instead, I'll focus on building my strength (via circuit machines) and my stamina (via my boyfriend, the elliptical machine; EM for short). The plan is to alternate days during the week and get as many Rollerblading weekends as I can in before the winter shuts it down.
I'm sore but am going back for more mañana. Salacious as it may sound, it's great to reconnect with my body. More gain than pain.
EM: Isn't he sexy?
The new-meat thing is still in effect, as evidenced by the flirty grins of fellow members. Thankfully, though, no shower propositions. Realized the shower soap is making me itch, which means I'm going to have to add shower gel and a bath sponge to my supplies. Yes, life is hard.
Locker room culture is a curious affair. Makes me feel like I'm on Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. Saw a guy tuck in his stomach as he viewed his tighty-whitie-clad figure in the mirror. Another scratched his balls and threw someone a clean towel--with the same hand. Also eavesdropped on a multigenerational (20s, 30s, 60s, 70s) quartet of various ethnicities as they talked about their racquetball game, the intrigue of Fringe, Freaks and Geeks, Netflix downloads, Hulu, DVD duplication, and other secrets of the universe.
Decided not to go bonkers and to leave the pool for tomorrow (which, by now, is today). Instead, I'll focus on building my strength (via circuit machines) and my stamina (via my boyfriend, the elliptical machine; EM for short). The plan is to alternate days during the week and get as many Rollerblading weekends as I can in before the winter shuts it down.
I'm sore but am going back for more mañana. Salacious as it may sound, it's great to reconnect with my body. More gain than pain.
EM: Isn't he sexy?
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Adventures of an Ambivalent Gym Queen, Dispatch #090908
I joined a gym today--the McBurney YMCA to be specific. I'd been meaning to since physical therapy ended earlier this year, but had been putting it off in favor of my stretching routine and late-night Rollerblading. But the do-it-at-home routine has gotten old, and the coming winter, well, let's just say my 'blading days are numbered.
The last time I belonged to a gym was in 1988, when a cousin and I joined Jack LaLanne Holiday Spa (now know as Bally Total Fitness). The cousin met a musclehead who fed her codependent tendency to abandon projects in midstream (in this case, our workout routine), and I, car-less, ended up with a several-hundred-dollar balance for a gym that took two hours and three buses to get to. Between the Jack LaLanne experience and the queer gym etiquette--which, among other things, consisted of preworkout primping that I was told was law, I threw in the towel.
I did pretty well for the first day: 30 minutes on the treadmill, 30 minutes on the elliptical machine, and another 20 on the fluid upper body ergometer. Last month's traveling killed my workout routine, so I was back with a vengeance!
And then I hit the pool.
I admit that it has been awhile, but damn! I started in the slow lane and...never left. I did a whopping two full laps in the Olympic-size pool and was whooped! Baba's going to have to work on his water-treading skills (don't laugh)--in a big way.
Tuckered out, I hit the shower, where I was promptly cruised--and propositioned. Twelve years ago, I would've been flattered. Twelve years later: not so much. I must have had that new-meat look; here's hoping it rinses off quickly! Thank God the days of Soap on a Rope are long gone. Hallelujah, liquid soap dispensers!
Yep--quite the new-member orientation! Good times--or rather, helllp!
The last time I belonged to a gym was in 1988, when a cousin and I joined Jack LaLanne Holiday Spa (now know as Bally Total Fitness). The cousin met a musclehead who fed her codependent tendency to abandon projects in midstream (in this case, our workout routine), and I, car-less, ended up with a several-hundred-dollar balance for a gym that took two hours and three buses to get to. Between the Jack LaLanne experience and the queer gym etiquette--which, among other things, consisted of preworkout primping that I was told was law, I threw in the towel.
I did pretty well for the first day: 30 minutes on the treadmill, 30 minutes on the elliptical machine, and another 20 on the fluid upper body ergometer. Last month's traveling killed my workout routine, so I was back with a vengeance!
And then I hit the pool.
I admit that it has been awhile, but damn! I started in the slow lane and...never left. I did a whopping two full laps in the Olympic-size pool and was whooped! Baba's going to have to work on his water-treading skills (don't laugh)--in a big way.
Tuckered out, I hit the shower, where I was promptly cruised--and propositioned. Twelve years ago, I would've been flattered. Twelve years later: not so much. I must have had that new-meat look; here's hoping it rinses off quickly! Thank God the days of Soap on a Rope are long gone. Hallelujah, liquid soap dispensers!
Yep--quite the new-member orientation! Good times--or rather, helllp!
Monday, September 8, 2008
"Need U Bad": Paging Lauryn Hill, Paging Lauryn Hill
I'm enjoying Jazmine Sullivan's "Need U Bad" as much as the next fiend, but for me, she's a fill-in for Lauryn Hill. Because let's be honest: isn't that why the song is popular in the first place? It totally summons Ms. Hill's breezy fusion of hip-hop, soul, and reggae like nothing has in approximately a decade.
It also seems like no small coincidence that the single should be released around the 10th anniversary of The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill (AmazonMP3). The connection is mentioned in Rolling Stone's recent "Inside The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill." Even producer/programmer Vada Nobles and John Legend reference Sullivan's Hill homage.
Which brings me to another peeve with the current musical landscape: the influx of retro-everything. I love Amy Winehouse's Back to Black (AmazonMP3) in very scary ways, but this current trend of making everything sound like yesterday's music is, well, old. I remember reading an interview with Bjork where she spoke of the importance of making music that spoke of/to contemporary culture. I've come to believe she's right.
That said, the Sullivan single is an easy trip down memory lane--especially since it's iTunes (free) Single of the Week (less than 24 hours left). What will become of Hill is anyone's guess. I give her credit for having the courage to release the Unplugged 2.0 (AmazonMP3) discs (also known as Notes from a Breakdown) and understand--in that fellow-celebrity way--how excruciating the paparazzi lens of pop culture can be. But if Britney Spears can "pull it together"...
It also seems like no small coincidence that the single should be released around the 10th anniversary of The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill (AmazonMP3). The connection is mentioned in Rolling Stone's recent "Inside The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill." Even producer/programmer Vada Nobles and John Legend reference Sullivan's Hill homage.
Which brings me to another peeve with the current musical landscape: the influx of retro-everything. I love Amy Winehouse's Back to Black (AmazonMP3) in very scary ways, but this current trend of making everything sound like yesterday's music is, well, old. I remember reading an interview with Bjork where she spoke of the importance of making music that spoke of/to contemporary culture. I've come to believe she's right.
That said, the Sullivan single is an easy trip down memory lane--especially since it's iTunes (free) Single of the Week (less than 24 hours left). What will become of Hill is anyone's guess. I give her credit for having the courage to release the Unplugged 2.0 (AmazonMP3) discs (also known as Notes from a Breakdown) and understand--in that fellow-celebrity way--how excruciating the paparazzi lens of pop culture can be. But if Britney Spears can "pull it together"...
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Top 8 Songs: Week Ending September 6, 2008
1. "Home," David Byrne and Brian Eno (from Everything That Happens Will Happen Today)
2. "Need U Bad," Jazmine Sullivan (Digital Single)
3. "Boys of Summer," Don Henley (from Building the Perfect Beast)
4. "Here, My Dear," Marvin Gaye (from Here, My Dear)
5. "Al Fin," Florencia Ruiz (from Mayor)
6. "Diablo III Overture," Russell Brower & The Eminence Symphony Orchestra (Digital Single)
7. "Anger," Marvin Gaye (from Here, My Dear)
8. "I Used to Love Him (featuring Mary J. Blige)," Lauryn Hill (from The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill)
2. "Need U Bad," Jazmine Sullivan (Digital Single)
3. "Boys of Summer," Don Henley (from Building the Perfect Beast)
4. "Here, My Dear," Marvin Gaye (from Here, My Dear)
5. "Al Fin," Florencia Ruiz (from Mayor)
6. "Diablo III Overture," Russell Brower & The Eminence Symphony Orchestra (Digital Single)
7. "Anger," Marvin Gaye (from Here, My Dear)
8. "I Used to Love Him (featuring Mary J. Blige)," Lauryn Hill (from The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill)
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Notes from Insomnia: September 4, 2008--1:43 AM (EST)
I've been watching far too much of the US Open for a person on vacation. Still, I just can't get enough of this commercial:
Venus' stank face at commercial's end is, as a friend of mine would say, "comedy gold." Peyton's "It's on like Donkey Kong..." is equally golden--as well as a hilarious nod to the trash-talking days of old. Never mind the the feud's cultural irony (Manning--Williams: Oreo? Double-stuff? Hello?), the dynastic duos are flat-out funny. Until you mess with them.
Venus' stank face at commercial's end is, as a friend of mine would say, "comedy gold." Peyton's "It's on like Donkey Kong..." is equally golden--as well as a hilarious nod to the trash-talking days of old. Never mind the the feud's cultural irony (Manning--Williams: Oreo? Double-stuff? Hello?), the dynastic duos are flat-out funny. Until you mess with them.
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