So for the second time I’ve joined a gym. Last year’s endeavor, well, the place was just too far away–eating up at least three hours of my precious life every time I went. This one is a lot closer–I can make it there in ten minutes. And I have access to a personal trainer if I so desire. Plus there is a hair salon and nail salon in the same complex, which you can bet I will be checking out.

So for the last three days I’ve been working out on these machines, hoping that I can become physically stronger, particularly my upper body. Due to regularly (five days/week) jogging/walking five miles, my legs could practically be registered as lethal weapons. If you are into smothering and/or queening, I’m you girl…I’m talking major headlock, baby cakes.

There is a series of probably 15 machines which, according to my trainer, I have to utilize–NO SKIPPING!–during my visit. I am breezing through the ones concentrating on calves, hips, and thighs. But the ones where I have to work my arms in a variety of torturous combinations are kicking my cute little ass, let me tell you!

But there is good news: Today I actually did the circuit twice, with my trainer only correcting my “form” on one of the machines. I think this is going to grow on me. Because even though my arms are aching a tad right now, all and all, I feel fantastic. In fact, I just might be able to take you in a bout of arm wrestling. Well, maybe in a few weeks or so.

***

Now lets talk about my hair. I recently had more highlights put in…and it looks fucking fabulous. I am paying $180 for this service, because I believe you get what you pay for. My hair happens to be important to me. As it is with most women. Unfortunately the original hairdresser lost her zing or enthusiasm or something. I switched to another girl at the salon who actually seems to want to do her best for me. Which is what I expect when I am spending this kind of money and tipping very well. So we may have World War III at the salon, or perhaps a minor skirmish, as these girls are usually very territorial about clientèle.

Regardless, I made my choice, I love the new hairdresser…so screw the old one with the bad attitude. She should have at least pretended to give a damn.
***

If you’re a Top Chef fan–and I am sooo a super fan–you watched last night and saw that Hung beat out Casey and Dale to take the title of Top Chef for season three. I’ve been hooked on this show from the first season, even though I’m not much for fancy dishes. What engages my interest is the passion these people have for what they do.

I have to admit that I’ve kinda caught the REALITY TV bug…with at least some semblance of reason. I don’t do The Bachelor, or Survivor, or Dancing with the Stars and a whole lot more. But I do have a thing for Project Runway and American Idol. I didn’t want to get hooked; it all started with Fantasia who won the third season of American Idol. I was just flipping through the channels, when I saw this girl just belting out a song like there was no tomorrow. I stuck around to see who she was, and there I was–signed, sealed, delivered–a new American Idol junkie.

Reality TV is big time these days. So much so that MTV sees the need to distinguish it’s new show, Kaya, which is not a reality show, with the following blurb: “MTV’s New Scripted Show.” I found that quite telling in re. to what’s happening all over the tube today.

***

I think men in boxers are so sexy. Men in panties can be sexy too, though. And don’t you forget it.

xo, Angela

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 4th, 2007 at 10:03 pm and is filed under And Another Thing, Rhetorically Yours. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.