In 2007, Cat and I went to the gym 138 times. That is pathetic my friends...Pathetic! (And so is the fact that I keep of log of gym utilization). And I suppose that over 100 of those were before September, because we were really laggin' in the last quarter. Anyways, that amounts to:
38% gym utilization $4 per gym visit 2.6 times per week
While the statistics aren't TOO bad, I know we can do better! Let's be realistic and set a gym resolution for 2008.
Increase gym utilization by 10% (everyone says 10% is the way to go, way to increase mileage when training, 10% initial goal when losing weight, etc.)
That brings us to: 152 gym visits in 2008 42% gym utilization $3.55 per gym visit 3 times per week
That sounds pretty good, and while 3 times per week is considered average, Cat and I are more on the schedule of 5 times one week, 0 the next. We'll try to be more consistent this year. And of course our goal will be to surpass the goal of 152 visits!
What is with these guys and their mass texts? Only guys like to mass text, and it's so obnoxious. We all know we're not special, that you're sending that message out to everyone, so why even bother? It doesn't make us feel warm and fuzzy inside to know that you can hit "Send all" and then write "mrry xmas to u" We don't jump up and down, "OH YES! He wants me to have a Merry Christmas! What a great guy!"
This Christmas, I got 6 texts wishing me a Merry Christmas. 3 of those were not in my phone, so I received Christmas "greetings" from someone so unimportant I either decided to delete their number, or never put it in my phone to begin with. So, the question is, what goes through these people's minds? Do they seriously select all? (For the record, Cat's phone does not have that option, and mine fools you into thinking you can select all, but then has an error sign saying max you can send to is 10). Are they going through the phone list thinking "Oh yea, haven't talked to Maxi in years, but I think I'll wish her a Merry Christmas." It's just ridiculous. I never get these mass texts from real friends, just some jerk offs that I don't have their number, or that I do still have their number but rarely talk to.
Another side effect that has come from these mass texts, is I'm overly paranoid that every text, unless it specifically says "Maxi" in it, is a mass text, so I don't reply. Heck, I don't want to be that fool that replies back to your "u out" text.
So, in summary, if you are guilty of that heinous crime of mass texting, just say NO! No one's impressed, no one thinks you care, no one wants to get all excited thinking someone texted them just to find out it's your fool ass, and more importantly, no one wants to reply just to find out they were played a fool when they invariably find out it was sent to all.
Mass texting due to emergencies, etc., are permitted, but only if coming from reliable source or in a case of a true emergency "d00dz, hit me @ crnr bar ths place is the shiznit" does not count as an emergency.
Did I for real wake up at 7AM, only to hit the snooze until 7:45. Then when I finally decided to get out of bed, there was no hot water. I made a face and proceeded to wash my face in stinging, cold water. I'm not wearing make-up, and I'm not wearing dress slacks. I was relieved to see that one of the other women in the office was also wear jeans. I'm just not in the mood.
Here comes .25 billable hours for my half day at work.
On the first day of Christmas, my toffee gave to me More fatness on my belly
On the second day of Christmas, my cookies gave to me Two more chins And the fatness on my belly
On the third day of Christmas, my egg nog gave to me.....
And the story goes on. Anyway, I ended up 10 pounds heavier and 12 additional inches all over my body. Yikes! What am I going to do? New Year's resolutions means it's time to go hardcore and get this body back into shape. Don't I want to give the Drug Rep something memorable to see this first time? Or am I trying to keep the lights off for a few months until I can tone my tush?
Tonight is our office party and the office will close early so we can get ready. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm delighted we'll be getting out early, but really, what are these people doing? Getting their hair done up like for a wedding? Ha! I will just die if anyone comes in like that.
Cat and I are going, but we see the office party more as a pre-game to the real fun - going out afterwards with everyone when we're all liquored up. That truly is the best. I think in some offices, the party might be better, but our office is full of married boring people. And yes, many of the married boring people are our age, 24-30. Really, how terrible. (Refer to earlier post about marrying young). Anyways, there's not a lot of opportunity to get rowdy, dirty dance and make out with OC. It's just not that type of office (unfortunately I might add).
After the office party last year, Cat, Chicago, and I went out and had the best time. That's when I met the coach. So, I'm a little nostalgic, I will admit. But I'm ready to go out and par-tay this year. I'm super excited about my outfit too. I'm wearing a typical cocktail dress, but it's turquoise instead of black. And I'm wearing my super hot red patent leather pumps with a new patent leather clutch I bought. Seriously, I'm loving it. Unfortunately I feel a little fat and bloated now though. Pizza for lunch, ugh, what was I thinking!? I'm the world's worst when I'm feeling fat. Hopefully I can de-bloat by 7.
It's one of those days where I feel like doing nothing. I had left over Mexican from dinner with Mary last night. I heated up the flautas and plopped my ass on the sofa. However, as lazy as I'm feeling, I still wanted to write this blog.
This afternoon as I was walking from my car to my apartment I experienced several smells within the short two block walk. First, I smelled a cheap red wine. As I rounded the block I caught a whiff of tobacco. What's with the odor of vices? I imagine d a bum sitting in a doorstep indulging himself in this unseasonably warm weather. As I continued down the block I thought I smelled the Industial sandwhich, one of my favorites the local deli across the street. At my arrival to my apartment the last smell I reveled in was the delicious, intoxicating flavors of Thai cooking. I'm glad that the smells ended up being a little bit better than the one before.
I'm going through some major Cat withdrawals. She went up to visit her gramma and cousins and all that for Christmas. And I suppose that's allowed, but I had a very boring weekend, and here it is 8:30 am on Monday and it looks like I'm actually going to start working at 8:30 instead of piddling away a good 1/2 hour talking about the shenanigans that is our life. Not that I have any shenanigans, I can't believe how boring I've become lately. Oh well, maybe 2008 will bring some good times!
Yesterday at work, I went to make some hot chocolate around mid-morning. I was getting a little hungry and wanted something to tie me over until lunch.
As I was leaving the break room with the hot chocolate, my shoe slipped out from underneath me. I felt like I was moving in slow motion. At first I thought "I'm going to make it! Just straighten up and I'll be fine!" Then "Nooooooooooooooooo! aaaaaagggggggggghhhhhhhhh, ouch, crash, boom, thud, owowowow, wooooo, ooo, oh, ouch OUCH!!" I landed on the ground with a loud THUD! My hot chocolate went flying from my hand all over me and the floor. Then, before I could even stop it, a loud "F*CK!!" flew from my mouth. My arm was burning and my wrist hurt from where it hit the ground. I did manage to pop back up really quickly before anyone saw.
The commotion, however, did not go unnoticed. One of the AA's was down the hall, heard the noise, and came running over.
"Maxi! Are you all right?!" she exclaimed!
I replied very dejectedly "No, I tripped and fell, burned my arm, and screamed an obscenity very loudly in the office."
She proceeded to help put a cool compress on my arm. That hot chocolate was hot! Too bad the machine says "Caution: Contents May be Hot" or I could have had a real winner of a law suit!
Needless to say, a large commotion quickly fills the break room. People are coming out of the woodwork asking what happened?, am I okay?, etc. All I could do was stand there pathetically and soaking wet in a gross brown substance as I held the cool towel to my arm. My once blue and white shirt was brown. I don't know how, but I had hot chocolate all over one arm, specifically all over the white cuff of one of my sleeves, on the other arm, on the front, on the back, on my pants, in my shoes, in my hair. I was a disgusting mess. I went home to change but still smelt like hot chocolate the rest of the day. All day long, people stopped by my cube, asking if I was okay. Was I the one that made the big mess that made Miss Jackie come up to clean? Oh, it was embarrassing.
[Check out this perfect segue]
Today, OC sends me an email, dripping with fake kindness about wanting to check and make sure I was okay from my fall. In it, he attached the following video (I could tell he was genuinely concerned). I'm not sure why I hadn't seen this one before, but it made me laugh so hard.
I don't know what made me laugh more...the slow motion of the second fall or how hard the news anchors are laughing. I can only imagine her inner dialogue as she bit it the second time. And did you notice Jim wanted to say something more, but couldn't finish as he was laughing too hard! Then, I think George tries to say something, but he too is cut short because he can't stop laughing! OH, it's too great. I've watched it at least a dozen times, and it still makes me laugh out loud each time.
That girl ain't getting a call back anytime soon. Hope she didn't quit her day job.
Well, that's it for now. Be careful out there! xoxo, Maxi
I was going to comment, but realized the comment was getting long, so I wrote a responsive blog instead.
It's weird, growing up, I never envisioned myself getting married before 30. I think a lot of it has to do with where you grow up. The more urban, the later you even want get married. Look at the number of "young" professional singles in NYC, Chicago, LA, Atlanta at age 30, 35, 40. You move out to some hick town or even small city, and you're an old maid after 24.
I think it has to do with how worldly and sophisticated one is. In smaller towns, they have less to do, so by the time you're 18, you've been there, done that, time to move on to your next stage of life. In larger cities, people realize this is the time to live, to have fun, to go out, travel, go to the theater, try new ethnic restaurants, do all the crazy things you want to do and not have to answer to anyone. You think your 5 year old wants sushi or Ethiopian food? Please, he wants chicken tenders and fries from Applebees. And more likely, he wants to throw them on the floor. As a side note, these people that bring screaming babies into 4 star restaurants should be shot. In case you missed the etiquette class in pre-natal care, here is the Golden Rule of being a considerate parent - Children should not be found in restaurants other than chain and fast food.
Anyways, back from that tangent. I think to answer your question Cat, guys think they'll be "mature" at 30. And we all know that ain't happening. Why does 30 scare so many people? Age really is just a number. It's not "30" that I fear, but being "old." You know, old eyes are my biggest fear. And I know a lot of 20 year olds with old eyes. So, I think I'll be fine when I turn 30 in a few years. Who knows, maybe I'll be married, maybe not. Whatever happens, that's the hand I was dealt, and I know it's what's right for me at this time. The last thing we want to do is get frantic and find someone just to have someone because we're 30. Oh No! Time to get serious, I only have about 60 years left until I die!
Why is it that so many guys I meet say that they would like to be married by the age of 30? Is 30 some magic number? I think 30 is the age where people feel like youth has ended. Gone are the reckless days of their 20s, drinking all night on a Wednesday, making out in bars, and wearing tight, trendy clothing. At age 30 this is all magically supposed to go away.
From a social standpoint it seems that we recognize 30 to be the time to settle down and mature. However, laws recognize young adults' independence at a much earlier age. Look at the laws in the U.S.: In most states 21 is the legal age to drink. Nationwide, 18 is the age to vote. Driving ages vary from 15 to get a learner's permit (yikes!) to 17 for full driving rights. We get to enjoy these privleges for a decade before it's time to finally get "serious".
As for me, I see myself getting married somewhere between the ages 26 and 28. While I would like a committed relationship now, I still feel like I have a few years of staying out late getting crunk tore up, ordering pizza, and giving out fake numbers.
I didn't talk to him since Thursday night and here he is texting me "hey stranger". I KNOW he saw his (ex) girlfriend this weekend, thanks to some photos she posted of him and a flirtatious comment left on his Wall. I'm done with him. I have some of his clothes at my house, but it doesn't matter. They aren't that confortable at all anyway.
I went out last Tuesday with a guy my mom's friend set me up with, the Drug Rep. Since he's a salesman we had no problem talking about whatever. He's funny, attractive, and smiles a lot. The evening ended with an awkward attempt at making out, but he still managed to ask me out for Saturday.
Anyway, more details to follow, Maxi and I are about to hit the gym!
We are two beautiful, intelligent, modest girls that work together in a large consulting firm. Our life and conversations are interesting enough for a reality TV show--too bad the camera adds 10 pounds.
Why "God Allows U-Turns"? Honey-chil', after you've had too much wine, innappropriate convos with coworkers and strangers, then shoved a huge honkin' burger in your mouth the next morning, you'll understand...
