Warning: long post ahead!! :)

Not that I know how to write a post other than a long one . . . Im trying to learn, I swear. :P

::::hums happily::::: So, I had a really good week overall, and a really good couple of days, in particular.

I got to see my mom today. I LOVE my mom. The family joke is that if you’ve met one of us, you’ve already met the other one, because we’re so alike. Good thing I like her, otherwise I’d be offended by that comment! LOL We met at a mall that’s about an hour from each of us, which means it’s right in the middle of our respective homes. It’s a really pretty mall, although it’s a little creepy. It’s one of those “new urban” environments, where everything is brand-spankin’-new, but it’s been distressed to look like an old downtown. So out in the middle of suburbia, there’s this mall that looks like it’s been there forever. Except there’s no dirt. And there’s music piped in everywhere. Sort of like Main Street in Disneyland. Yeah, it’s a little creepy: a little “Stepford,” if you know what I mean.

So we spent the day alternating between walking around at the mall and driving around to find model homes to look at. No reason for the homes; we just like to look at the interior designs. :) ::::hums happily again:::: It was a good day.

On another note, I have GOT to go back to the gym. I joined this gym last August (or September – somewhere right around there), and for a while I was pretty good about going. Of course, when I came home from the gym and ate a whole bag of chips, that pretty much made the time I’d just spent at the gym moot. :P But at least I was going, and I figured that was better than nothing, right?

Here’s my problem with gyms: they are depressing. Really. I always walk in the door, and I feel like I’ve been hit with this wave of grim determination that everyone’s giving off. Sort of like they’re running on the treadmill with clenched teeth, thinking, “I . . . WILL . . . look . . . good . . . naked . . . “ (Ellipses because they’re out of breath. Yes, in their heads, too!) Plus, it’s a meat market. I always feel like screaming at the guy checking me out, “STOP LOOKING AT ME!! I’M HOT AND SWEATY AND UGLY AND TRYING TO CONCENTRATE ON MY WORKOUT AND YOU’RE MAKING ME SELF-CONSCIOUS!!!” Now, he might be staring because I’m so stunningly beautiful (Ha!), but in my head, he’s thinking that he can’t believe this fat cow can even get up off the couch, and should definitely not be uglifying his gym with her presence. You can see why I hate the gym, right?

But one day in the paper, there was this whole section about different gyms in the area, and what they each offered that was cool or unusual. And this one offered these great classes, including DANCE classes!!! I love dance classes. They’re way less boring than aerobics classes (“Only 349 more leg lifts, everyone! Come on, you can do it!” Yuck). But the guy who teaches these classes has danced in a bunch of music videos, and they have Pilates (which I also love; I own one of those machines, even!), and kickboxing and all kinds of cool stuff. So I went down to pick up a free one-week pass, and there was NO GRIM DETERMINATION in the air!!! This was promising! Everybody seemed happy to be there, and people knew each other’s names (insert “Cheers” theme here). So I ended up getting a membership. It was on the pricey side, but I figured actually GOING to the gym for 60 bucks a month was smarter than JOINING a gym for 20 bucks and never going.

And then I stopped going. You know all the reasons: it was the holidays, I was really busy, I was spending time with family, blah, blah, blah. And after the holidays (this is the kicker, folks), I didn’t want to go because I had gained weight and I was embarrassed. How fucked up is that???? It’s a GYM, for chrissakes. Where people go when they’ve, oh I don’t know, GAINED WEIGHT!!!! Geez . . . So I’ve thrown a set of workout clothes and a class schedule in my car (well, I haven’t yet, but it’s on my list for tomorrow, I swear), and now I will have no excuse not to take those fun dance classes (they have hip-hop and African!) again. Maybe I’ll even renew my membership. Maybe.