GUEST BLOGGER: @brigibaby
I hate January. It’s dark when I go to work in the morning, and dark when I leave at night. Bitter cold temperatures and the constant anxiety of an approaching blizzard don’t improve my mood much. And with the holidays over and nothing to look forward to until St. Patrick’s Day (or Valentine’s day, right boo?), January seriously has nothing going for it. But the real reason I dread this month every year aren’t the short days and snowstorms; it’s the gym. Come January, hordes of people rush to the gym, as if signing up for a membership instantly makes them drop two pant sizes. For the routine gym-goer, January is a nightmare.
Whether you belong to the neighborhood Y, or your city’s bougiest gym, this epidemic will affect you this month. New Year’s resolutions are a gym-goer’s worst nightmare. Everyone makes the same lame list like, “I’m going to drop 10 pounds this year,” and “2012 is going to be my year;” however it’s worded, it has the naïve resolver ending up in the same place; their nearest fitness center.
Earlier this week, my first day back after a nice holiday break, I laced up my sneaks and headed to the gym for a lunchtime spin class. It’s usually pretty crowded, but this time was beyond chaotic. I grabbed one of the two remaining bikes and was pretty pleased with myself…until some chick who didn’t get there in time had to ruin it all. She was all salty about not getting a bike even though her name was on the sign-up sheet. I was thinking “sorry, sister, you snooze, you lose,” and how no one really signs up for these classes anyway… until I saw the owner of the gym come in, holding said sign-up sheet. He asked if anyone was on a bike that hadn’t signed up, and I raised my hand, expecting several other hands to go up. Except mine was the only one, and I was promptly given the boot (okay, the owner and the instructor were very nice about it, and said that I had the first spot reserved for next week’s class, but it was still embarrassing). I get that at some gyms, signing up is mandatory and classes are always at capacity. But I’ve been a member of this gym since March and I’ve never needed to sign up for anything.
Yesterday’s Zumba class was like being on Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras; I barely had room to do my salsas and sambas without bumping into someone. Not to mention the late-comers who of course had to squeeze in front of me and block my view of the instructor and the mirror.
I learned my lesson and got to the gym more than 10 minutes early for today’s class. I signed up and staked out a spot in the corner, where no one would be able to infringe on my space. Or so I thought. We’re halfway through the warm-up when this chick waltzes in and sets up shop right next to me. Her legs went on for days…and practically into my head for the cross-kicks. I had to leave the class ten minutes early to ensure I wouldn’t have to wait in line for a shower. And the locker room? I’ve seen more clothes at the Jersey Shore. Yes, it’s a ladies locker room, but please don’t parade around with your unshaved bottom half and ample top half in my face; at least put on your underwear to blow-dry your hair.
Hey, I get it. I want to fit into my skinny jeans and have abs like Gisele, too (a girl can dream, right?). But New Year’s resolutions don’t work; at least not the “lose-20-pounds-by-spring-break” kind. So stop crowding my gym and adopt a healthier attitude – remember, it’s a lifestyle, not one group exercise class, that will make you look and feel your best. Now that the rant is out, I guess I’ll just bide my time until February, when the resolutions are long forgotten and the regulars can enjoy the gym in peace. That, or punch the next person I see smiling for their membership card picture in the face.
Showing posts with label guest blogger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guest blogger. Show all posts
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Too Bad “Divorce” Doesn’t Begin With the Letter “K”
GUEST BLOGGER: @brigibaby
Oh Kimmy. I was rooting for you, I really was. I’m not gonna lie and say that while watching the 4-hour fairy tale wedding event (yes, I did watch all four hours; can I get some kind of medal?) on E! I wasn’t making snide comments about Kim and Kris (we all knew she wasn’t going to take his last name, you can spare us the faux-drama next time). I’m not gonna say I saw this marriage lasting. But I will say that, secretly, I wanted it to. Even though I’ve had it up to here with this family and their compulsive need to change every “C” in the alphabet to “K,” everyone deserves to find true love!
The reason for the big D? Who knows. Maybe it was the fact that they barely knew each other. Maybe it had to do with Kim’s biological clock, and her freaking out that she was nearing 30 and unmarried, while her younger sister was happily doing the husband and wife thing. Maybe it really was the ol’ “irreconcilable differences” that all celebrity marriages seem to end with. Whatever the reason, no one was really surprised to hear that Kim was filing for a divorce a mere 72 days after their over-priced and publicized wedding extravaganza. Because that’s really what it was; an event. It wasn’t about the joining of two people in the sacred sacrament of marriage; it was about making the Kardashian empire even more money.
Maybe that’s why people are so disgusted with the whole thing. This wasn’t Kim’s first marriage. Her first marriage, when she was only 19, actually lasted for 4 whole years before she split with music producer Damon Thomas. Older and none the wiser, she married Kris Humphries seven years later, after a whirlwind courtship of barely 10 months. People want to talk about how gay marriage desecrates the whole sanctity of the union? Believe what you want, but anyone who treats marriage like a publicity stunt is defiling marriage worse than two people who are truly in love who happen to be the same gender.
No one is more upset about this than E! The network that shoved this family into our lives (and probably orchestrated the whole rush-delivery wedding) is reaping what they sowed. I can just imagine little Ryan Seacrest crying himself to sleep last night. They probably thought, hey, it worked with one Kardashian sister (Khloe and Lamar, anyone?), let’s see if we can go 2-0 (I will be the first to say that as much as I had my doubts about Khloe and Lamar’s quicky marriage, I think they’re actually very cute together). The editing team for the new season of Kourtney and Kim Take New York is probably in a frenzy, having been given direct orders to edit out every time Kim says something about how married life suits her, and how happy they are, and how her family is really warming to Kris!
Kim and Kris’ whole defense about their getting married so soon (yes, they had to defend their relationship to their family, who probably saw this divorce coming a mile away) was the whole “When it’s right, it’s right. When you know, you just know, blah blah blah.” Every girl wants to believe that. True, there are couples who jumped the gun, married soon after they met, and are still happily together years later, but honey, that is the exception (haven’t you seen He’s Just Not That Into You? You’re always, always, always the rule, never the exception). That rarely happens, because everyone is sublimely happy the first few months of a new relationship - constant sex will do that to you. It’s when the butterflies fly away and the giddy newness wears off that the real relationship begins. Unfortunately for Kim, Kris just wasn’t “the one.” I still have hope for her, though. Everyone deserves to find happiness - and if you’re really lucky, you find the one so when even after all the shiny newness is worn away, you still feel butterflies.
Oh Kimmy. I was rooting for you, I really was. I’m not gonna lie and say that while watching the 4-hour fairy tale wedding event (yes, I did watch all four hours; can I get some kind of medal?) on E! I wasn’t making snide comments about Kim and Kris (we all knew she wasn’t going to take his last name, you can spare us the faux-drama next time). I’m not gonna say I saw this marriage lasting. But I will say that, secretly, I wanted it to. Even though I’ve had it up to here with this family and their compulsive need to change every “C” in the alphabet to “K,” everyone deserves to find true love!
The reason for the big D? Who knows. Maybe it was the fact that they barely knew each other. Maybe it had to do with Kim’s biological clock, and her freaking out that she was nearing 30 and unmarried, while her younger sister was happily doing the husband and wife thing. Maybe it really was the ol’ “irreconcilable differences” that all celebrity marriages seem to end with. Whatever the reason, no one was really surprised to hear that Kim was filing for a divorce a mere 72 days after their over-priced and publicized wedding extravaganza. Because that’s really what it was; an event. It wasn’t about the joining of two people in the sacred sacrament of marriage; it was about making the Kardashian empire even more money.
Maybe that’s why people are so disgusted with the whole thing. This wasn’t Kim’s first marriage. Her first marriage, when she was only 19, actually lasted for 4 whole years before she split with music producer Damon Thomas. Older and none the wiser, she married Kris Humphries seven years later, after a whirlwind courtship of barely 10 months. People want to talk about how gay marriage desecrates the whole sanctity of the union? Believe what you want, but anyone who treats marriage like a publicity stunt is defiling marriage worse than two people who are truly in love who happen to be the same gender.
No one is more upset about this than E! The network that shoved this family into our lives (and probably orchestrated the whole rush-delivery wedding) is reaping what they sowed. I can just imagine little Ryan Seacrest crying himself to sleep last night. They probably thought, hey, it worked with one Kardashian sister (Khloe and Lamar, anyone?), let’s see if we can go 2-0 (I will be the first to say that as much as I had my doubts about Khloe and Lamar’s quicky marriage, I think they’re actually very cute together). The editing team for the new season of Kourtney and Kim Take New York is probably in a frenzy, having been given direct orders to edit out every time Kim says something about how married life suits her, and how happy they are, and how her family is really warming to Kris!
Kim and Kris’ whole defense about their getting married so soon (yes, they had to defend their relationship to their family, who probably saw this divorce coming a mile away) was the whole “When it’s right, it’s right. When you know, you just know, blah blah blah.” Every girl wants to believe that. True, there are couples who jumped the gun, married soon after they met, and are still happily together years later, but honey, that is the exception (haven’t you seen He’s Just Not That Into You? You’re always, always, always the rule, never the exception). That rarely happens, because everyone is sublimely happy the first few months of a new relationship - constant sex will do that to you. It’s when the butterflies fly away and the giddy newness wears off that the real relationship begins. Unfortunately for Kim, Kris just wasn’t “the one.” I still have hope for her, though. Everyone deserves to find happiness - and if you’re really lucky, you find the one so when even after all the shiny newness is worn away, you still feel butterflies.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
I got 99 problems and Wall Street is #1
GUEST BLOGGER: @brigibaby
Unless you live under a rock (or in a small, uber-conservative city where your news might be censored), by now you’ve heard of the “Occupy Wall Street” movement. Started back in September, when protesters began to literally occupy Wall Street by camping out on the street, the movement has spread to multiple cities across America. It’s garnered quite a following in Boston, and whether this is because Massachusetts is known for its’ liberal views, or from the masses of young college students eager to be a part of something bigger than they are, I couldn’t tell you. But I can tell you that I’m actually interested in what’s going on, and that is worth noting.
I’m not apathetic; I’m just not political. Politics have never interested me, and I don’t pretend to think otherwise. But “Occupy Wall Street” has been increasingly hard to ignore, especially since my office is in one of the buildings that looms over Dewey Square, where protesters have been camping out for the last few weeks (they’re protesting the Boston Federal Reserve building, not mine, I swear!) So I started reading the signs from the protesters and clicking on the articles about the movement, and I realized something: I’m one of the 99%!
This movement is for everyone who feels that they are underappreciated and overworked. For the single parent who works three jobs just to put food on the table for their kids. For the “traditional” family whose patriarch was laid-up in a work-related injury and can’t pay the medical bills and the mortgage. For the student who worked their ass off to get through college, only to find that the only places hiring offer minimum wage and no shot of making a dent in the mountain of student loan debt they have. Seriously, read this blog and tell me it doesn’t infuriate you.
As someone who served in AmeriCorps for two years, I know a thing or two about struggling to make ends meet. You don’t become a VISTA (Volunteer In Service To America) because you want to make the big bucks (did you notice how the title even has the word “volunteer” in it? that should tell you a little bit about the salary). I’ve been on food stamps, applied for heating assistance, and most of my wardrobe is from thrift stores. I don’t live an ostentatious life by any means, and have no problem paying taxes, contributing to my health insurance, or any other of the number of things that come with being considered an “adult” in this country. What I do have a problem with is this “American Dream” that is deteriorating right before my eyes, and the eyes of everyone else in my generation. Of the countless poignant protesters’ signs that have sprung up in this movement, one that resonates with me the most is: “It’s called the American Dream because you have to be asleep to believe it.”
It’s no secret that this country needs some reform. Don’t think so? Watch any one of Michael Moore’s documentaries and get back to me. I love this country, and am proud to be an American, but we can’t ignore the fact that the past few years have been rough. Somewhere, somehow, we’ve veered off course. Corporations are more concerned with making a quick buck than with defending the rights of their customers. Politicians are more concerned about hiding their sex scandal than getting around to the issues they promised. Employers are more concerned with increasing their bottom line than maintaining morale or creating new jobs. These issues are what sparked the “Occupy Wall Street” movement, and judging from the past few weeks, it’s clear that there’s no shortage of things to protest.
I don’t pretend to know the solution to this mess. Instead of being one of the pioneers in this movement, I’m one of the ones who can only offer help by way of a smile or an encouraging word as I trudge by on my way to work (I have a job; I truly am one of the lucky ones). So I try to do what I can do: read up on it. As corny as it sounded when you were little, the old adage “knowledge is power” has proven true time after time as an adult, so I’m doing my part by being informed. When visitors come into the office and look out the window at the collage of tents below, I launch into my daily update of their progress. It’s comforting to know that Americans haven’t lost their backbone; that the protests of the 60’s and 70’s aren’t just memories of a time when we believed in something. I believe in this movement and these people. And having Suze Orman on my side doesn’t hurt, either.
Unless you live under a rock (or in a small, uber-conservative city where your news might be censored), by now you’ve heard of the “Occupy Wall Street” movement. Started back in September, when protesters began to literally occupy Wall Street by camping out on the street, the movement has spread to multiple cities across America. It’s garnered quite a following in Boston, and whether this is because Massachusetts is known for its’ liberal views, or from the masses of young college students eager to be a part of something bigger than they are, I couldn’t tell you. But I can tell you that I’m actually interested in what’s going on, and that is worth noting.
I’m not apathetic; I’m just not political. Politics have never interested me, and I don’t pretend to think otherwise. But “Occupy Wall Street” has been increasingly hard to ignore, especially since my office is in one of the buildings that looms over Dewey Square, where protesters have been camping out for the last few weeks (they’re protesting the Boston Federal Reserve building, not mine, I swear!) So I started reading the signs from the protesters and clicking on the articles about the movement, and I realized something: I’m one of the 99%!
This movement is for everyone who feels that they are underappreciated and overworked. For the single parent who works three jobs just to put food on the table for their kids. For the “traditional” family whose patriarch was laid-up in a work-related injury and can’t pay the medical bills and the mortgage. For the student who worked their ass off to get through college, only to find that the only places hiring offer minimum wage and no shot of making a dent in the mountain of student loan debt they have. Seriously, read this blog and tell me it doesn’t infuriate you.
As someone who served in AmeriCorps for two years, I know a thing or two about struggling to make ends meet. You don’t become a VISTA (Volunteer In Service To America) because you want to make the big bucks (did you notice how the title even has the word “volunteer” in it? that should tell you a little bit about the salary). I’ve been on food stamps, applied for heating assistance, and most of my wardrobe is from thrift stores. I don’t live an ostentatious life by any means, and have no problem paying taxes, contributing to my health insurance, or any other of the number of things that come with being considered an “adult” in this country. What I do have a problem with is this “American Dream” that is deteriorating right before my eyes, and the eyes of everyone else in my generation. Of the countless poignant protesters’ signs that have sprung up in this movement, one that resonates with me the most is: “It’s called the American Dream because you have to be asleep to believe it.”
It’s no secret that this country needs some reform. Don’t think so? Watch any one of Michael Moore’s documentaries and get back to me. I love this country, and am proud to be an American, but we can’t ignore the fact that the past few years have been rough. Somewhere, somehow, we’ve veered off course. Corporations are more concerned with making a quick buck than with defending the rights of their customers. Politicians are more concerned about hiding their sex scandal than getting around to the issues they promised. Employers are more concerned with increasing their bottom line than maintaining morale or creating new jobs. These issues are what sparked the “Occupy Wall Street” movement, and judging from the past few weeks, it’s clear that there’s no shortage of things to protest.
I don’t pretend to know the solution to this mess. Instead of being one of the pioneers in this movement, I’m one of the ones who can only offer help by way of a smile or an encouraging word as I trudge by on my way to work (I have a job; I truly am one of the lucky ones). So I try to do what I can do: read up on it. As corny as it sounded when you were little, the old adage “knowledge is power” has proven true time after time as an adult, so I’m doing my part by being informed. When visitors come into the office and look out the window at the collage of tents below, I launch into my daily update of their progress. It’s comforting to know that Americans haven’t lost their backbone; that the protests of the 60’s and 70’s aren’t just memories of a time when we believed in something. I believe in this movement and these people. And having Suze Orman on my side doesn’t hurt, either.
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