Plastic Snoopy Dishes
While I've gotten pickier and pickier about what Snoopy stuff I'll buy (I'm not the one who bought me the Snoopy Kleenex, okay?), every once in a while, I see something Snoopy and I buy it just because OMG IT HAS SNOOPY ON IT! Such was the case a year or so ago, when I found plastic Snoopy dishes at Dollar Tree, and bought them. I now have four plates and one small bowl.
I got home and thought, "Oh, good grief, WHY did I buy these?!" Too lazy to return them, but not quite wanting to toss them in the eBay or Goodwill pile, I put them in my dish cabinet. And I have found that I actually use them. They're perfect when I want something unbreakable. Tonight I found myself eating sweet potato bisque and a peanut butter and honey sandwich off of them.
I am thirty-one years old, and I use plastic Snoopy dishes. I suppose there are weirder things.
Helloooooo, Hot Stuff
At my gym, there are several staff people, and because I am there pretty much every day, they all know me. Eliza at the desk always greets me with a big smile and a "Hi, Megan!" before I even show her my ID card. The three current trainers all know me at least by sight, and the two I don't work with will stop from time to time and ask how I'm doing. The admissions people, who get interested people signed up for memberships, see me and will say hello.
One of these admissions people is a truly handsome--I mean totally gorgeous--speciman whose name I don't recall. But he is male beauty. Dark hair, perfect smile, perfect body. The way his booty looks in his black trousers...oy!
Anyway, today he was wandering around working out before his shift started. He wandered by the treadmills, where I was patiently waiting for a machine to open up. He had been working out near me earlier and we hadn't really acknowledged each other, but as I moved out of the way to let him pass, he flashed that devastating smile at me and said, "Hey, how are you?"
"I'm good. You?" I did my best to keep the drool in check. He replied with a cheery, "I'm fine!" and as he walked away, obliged me by letting me check out his ass.
Suddenly, I didn't even mind that G. upped my daily run/walk from 1.5 miles to 2.
Homework
Most of my conversations with G. the Trainer revolve around my form, my diet, and whether or not I am getting enough cardio into my life, but sometimes we get into discussions about other stuff. He knows, for example, that I am a musician. Last week he asked if I watch American Idol.
"Heavens no!"
"What do you mean? You're a singer! You don't watch American Idol?!"
"Half those kids can't sing, dude!"
He was baffled. Here they are, on American Idol, and I'm telling him they can't sing? Look, some of them can--Jennifer Hudson is AWESOME--but some of them are so friggin' unhealthy in their shouting, that I just can't support the show that celebrates singers a style that will render some of them mute before they hit their 40s. I explained this to him and he said, "What about Adam Lambert?"
"Eh."
"What do you mean, 'Eh?!'"
"I don't really know much about him."
So G. gave me homework in addition to all the crazy running he makes me do. YouTube Adam Lambert. Fine, okay.
This was last week. Yesterday, I gave HIM some homework.
"Get on YouTube. Look up Keane. That's K-E-A-N-E. Now that's a dude who can sing, says the music snob!"
He said he would. I fully intend to test him.
Gym Rat
Can you tell I'm becoming a gym rat? I am there every day. Every. Day. I work with G. on Mondays and Thursdays, and seven days a week, I am running and doing the Stairmaster.
Earlier this month, I spent nearly $200 on proper running shoes, fancy inserts, and a pair of really cool socks that let your feet breathe. Of course, I wear them once, then wear regular cheap Hanes socks the rest of the week until I do laundry. But still, these socks are awesome.
I take TWO pairs of gym shoes. My Super Cardio Shoes with their inserts are for cardio, and G. recommends I use my old shoes for the strength training. I will have to replace the running shoes in June, so I may as well use them only for cardio.
I even have one of those armbands for my iPod, but I don't use it much because it just sticks to my sweaty arm--gross.
The good news is that all this time at the gym is making my clothes feel looser. I was down two pounds from last week when I weighed yesterday, so YAY!!
Rain, Rain,
California has been getting absolutely DUMPED ON this week, and I love it. LOVE. IT. I close my eyes and pretend I'm in England. It makes me want to sip hot tea and watch movies, all cozied into my apartment with the cats. I did that a lot this weekend, but alas, now I've got this thing called "work" I have to do on the week days.
It poured all morning, then got sunny this afternoon. When I came home from the gym, the sun was out. I sat down and relaxed at the computer for a bit. By the time I got up to have my shower, the sun was gone and the rain was coming down again. Work it, storm system!
Busy Girl
The next couple of weeks are kind of crazy-busy. Tomorrow I have an after-school inservice, followed immediately with cardio and an appointment with G. I can't meet at our normal time on Thursday because I've got a mandatory meeting for all VAPA teachers, but I'll still have to get to the gym and run that evening.
Next week I've got singing all five nights. Chorale on Monday, and rehearsals for a Pops Choir on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. I did the Pops Choir last year and it was great fun. The concert for that is Friday night. In addition to these rehearsals, I have more of the staff inservice on Wednesday, and my normal two appointments with G. I've started showering and washing my hair at night because getting up before 6:30 is damned near impossible with all this stuff going on.
And this reminds me, I have to reschedule the hair appointment I made for next Wednesday. Just not gonna happen.
...And That's All For Now, She Wrote.
G'nite!
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