This Bugs

Things I see at the gym (that I don’t understand)

by Courtney on May 18, 2010

Every time I go to the gym I see something that I don’t understand. Like, why is that guy working out on his lunch hour in his khakis and flannel shirt? Why not dawn some shorts and a tee, man? Or why the largest of women blow dry their hair buck naked in the mirror? What happened to your towel, woman?! So many times I see things like this and it makes me scratch my head. I know I should be more focused on my fitness when I’m all up in the gym, but I can’t help but ogle at some of the oddities I see on a regular basis. And I just had to share some of them with you…

In January, Jeff and I took the plunge and joined a megawatt gym. I’m talking the kind of gym that serves pina coladas at their Olympic sized swimming pool on the weekends, has 100+ classes, and like 900 treadmills – with TVs. It ‘aint cheap, that’s for sure. But you pay for the experience. And as far as I’m concerned, it’s worth the money.

Before this, I had been working out at my office gym that is tiny and smelly. I mean, I’m not complaining; I feel fortunate to have an option to go to the gym on my lunch hour if I want. But it’s utterly uninspiring to me when I’m there. Think: no TVs, no stereo playing over the loud speakers, and people working out in their work attire. Puke. No, I much prefer my big pretentious gym that has lots of good looking people waltzing around in sports bras and yoga pants and really muscley men that strut around with a towel on their head because they’re so hardcore sweaty, like a boxer or something.

Help me understand…

But whether I’m at my hole in the wall gym at work or my snobby gym on a hill, I see weirdness all around me. I used to always see this one woman on my lunch break who was usually there for a good hour (plus). She’d be sweaty from doing 30 minutes on the elliptical and then she’d lift weights for a while. Being the germaphobe that I assumed she was, she always had a paper towel in between her hand and the machines or free weights she was griping. But this is what killed me; she’d come into the locker room and strip down out of her soaked clothes and lace herself right up into her corset, step into her floral dress and trot back to work. Did you notice she skipped a shower? Ya! She wouldn’t touch a freaking thing in that gym but she’d pour her sweaty ass into a corset and work clothes, never minding to apply deodorant or body splash, and head back to her cubical. WTF?

I also hate when woman take a shower, get out with sweaty matted hair to their heads and beat red faces, quickly dress, and then skip out the door never minding to check themselves in the mirror. Um, hello! Don’t you care what you look like at work? Maybe not I guess. But geez, have a little pride in your appearance, that’s all I ask! Tousle your hair at least. Apply some lip gloss or maybe a little blush!

What I wouldn't give to have a body like this...

The big gym conjures up its own set of queries for me as well. We have this nice, spacious locker room and it’s always packed with woman. Now, I get that a locker room is for changing, but I think some woman take it too far. They’re like total exhibitionists. And it’s never the ones you’d want to be exhibitionists. It’s never the Jessica Biels of the gym, freeballin’ it as they shake out their wet hair standing in front of the mirror. No, it’s always the Rosie O’Donnells of the gym! Come on ladies, this isn’t your bedroom. Do you really need to stand there stark naked for 10 minutes doing your hair and makeup? It’s not that hot in here. Girlz, please.

And then there’s the locker room hot tub. Well, it’s always the ladies with the National Geographic style unkempt “situations” that get in there and float around in the tub together. I can only imagine what else if floating around in that water. GA-ROSS!

I mean, does the weirdness ever end? It’s definitely a free for all at the gym. I’m sure I’m not the only one that has funny of weird tales to tell!

Please, share your stories so we can all have a laugh over it!

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Why do men LOVE fake boobies?

by Courtney on May 6, 2010

Look out boys, these babies are gonna BLOW!

When I got home from work today, Jeff wasted no time in telling me that he had a confession to make. He looked slightly nervous as he proceeded to tell me that I wasn’t going to like what I was about to hear.

Okaaaaay… I said; go on…

Jeff continued; “I was jogging on the treadmill today, and I happened to look out the window overlooking the pool, and a woman with enormous fake boobs was sun tanning – TOPLESS! She was topless, Courtney!”

Apparently, Jeff felt like he did something wrong by staring. He paused to assess my reaction, but all he could see was the back of my head as I made my way up the stairs to change into my nightly uniform of mismatched sweats. When I got back downstairs about 10 minutes later, he continued the conversation.

Jeff: Courtney, do you think she was an exhibitionist? I mean, I think she really wanted people to notice her.

Me: I don’t know, sure.

Jeff: They were like, really big.

Me: Well, she paid good money for those ta tas; she wants to show them off.

Jeff: Ya, you’re probably right.

Me: I am.

Jeff: You know; I would support you if you ever wanted to get a boob job.

Me: Do you want me to get a boob job?

Jeff: No… only if you wanted to.

Me: I don’t understand why guys like fake boobs. They aren’t real! Isn’t part of the appeal knowing these babies are home grown? The real McCoy! Why do you like a balloon filled with water? What’s so hot about that?

Jeff: It just is. It’s awesome.

Me: You’re feeling guilty because you can’t stop thinking about the pool boobs, aren’t you?

Jeff: Yes.

From that point on, I changed the subject, and it was like every time I asked Jeff a question, he’d just say “fake boobs” like he was a broken record – to annoy me.

Me: Have you read my latest blog post?

Jeff: Fake boobs.

Me: What’s for dinner?

Jeff: BBQ fake boobs.

Me: You’re being really annoying.

Jeff: You know, now that you’re getting your family used to your dirty blog where you drop the F-bomb and stuff, they’ll probably be alright with your fake boobs.

MAN, he had those torpedo tits on the mutherfucking brain!

My thoughts on augmentation (for me)

I know I look constipated, but my boobs just really hurt.

Ok, I get that having nice, voluptuous lady lumps looks good. I mean, who doesn’t want perky boobies for life? But when I look at girls like Heidi Montag from MTV’s “The Hills”, all I can think of is that those babies are going to burst like a water bed if too much pressure is applied! They just look uncomfortable and hard as a rock. No thanks!

If I was ever to get a boob job, it would simply be to remove them from my knees after having kids and put them back where they originally sprouted at age 13. But when I think of the pain, I conclude – that’s why they made the Wonder Bra! I’m down with the faux lift!

Right now, Jeff is sleeping on the couch, probably dreaming about those tan line free jugs. But I don’t really care – because I’m bought and paid for. Jeff’s stuck with me and my modest Cs for life.

Suck it up El Jefe!

Have you ever thought about getting a boob job? And if you have already, do you recommend it?! ;)

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People, wake up! STOP SMOKING CIGARETTES!

by Courtney on March 30, 2010

I stood behind a man smoking at a crosswalk today, and it made me really mad. It’s not because the smell of cigarette smoke has become utterly foreign to me in the state of California and I’ve become accustomed to fresh air. No. It’s because today my dad’s best friend died of lung cancer, and this man in front of me was enjoying his cancer stick a little too much for my taste.

I just can’t understand it.  As much as we know about the dangers of cigarette smoking, why do people continue to puff away? I get it for generations passed, because they didn’t know then what we know now. But now we just know too much to ignore the plain facts: SMOKING CAN KILL YOU!

And the rebuttal; “Well if this doesn’t get me, something else will” is a total cop out. And it’s selfish. Because it’s not just about you; it affects everyone else around you, most importantly, your family. And your friends.

I know it must be the hardest thing ever for someone to kick the habit. It’s an addiction. And the condition wouldn’t have thousands of programs and reality TV shows dedicated to it if it wasn’t a serious problem. But the reality is; it’s possible to quit. In fact, thousands of people do it every day. So it’s about a choice.

My dad made the choice to quit in his ‘20s when he was a chain smoking soldier in Vietnam. He said he quit “cold turkey – the only way to do it”. My brother recently quit as he took up running and realized that running and being healthy doesn’t jive with sucking tar into his lungs 12 times a day. The list of success stories that I know of goes on and on.

But not everyone made the choice.  Or if they did, the damage had already been done. This is the unfortunate circumstance of Jon, my dad’s BFF and one of the nicest, sweetest men I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I’ve known Jon most of my life and he’s one of those people that always had a smile on his face and a joke behind it. Let me emphasize; he was one hell of a jokester. If it wasn’t what he was saying, it was how he said it in that southern Indiana drawl that added the final effect to a well delivered punch line. I loved throwing back Bud Lights with Jon in the summertime, sitting on a picnic table behind his house in the southern town of Mitchell, Indiana, where most of my dad’s best high school buddies reside.  Sadly now, Mitchell will never be the same to me.  And it absolutely breaks my heart.

I wish everyone who curls that cigarette toward their mouth and takes a long euphoric drag could think about the very real scenario of leaving the party (of life) too early, while everyone you love is just getting their second wind. And you haven’t had a chance to do all that you wanted to do in life.

Don’t simply live in the here and now. You’ve got to make decisions that will impact your life in a positive way for the long haul. It’s never too late. I’m a firm believer that you can do anything you set your mind to. You never know what you’re capable of until you try. And try hard.

I just really needed to get that off my chest.

RIP Jon Allen. You will be forever missed.

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This bugs me (Part 1)

by Courtney on February 21, 2010

I like to consider myself a really positive person. I can’t help it; it’s just how I’m wired. I have a knack for getting over stuff really quickly too. I think my husband has helped me perfect this skill over the years.  But despite my cheery demeanor, I certainly have my share of “fingernails on the chalk board” moments. And so I thought, what better way to blow off steam and clear my head of life’s simple irritations then to purge them in the form of a blog.

I’m not going to sit here and only rant about major doozies though. This is an equal opportunity blog and even the baby doozies will get their chance in the spotlight!

Here goes…

I hate how the Olympics dominate my TV for two whole weeks (or however long it is). I’m just not that into it. It’s ok, but only for like a week. I find it interesting how “The Today Show” team goes on location in Vancouver and their entire three hour show each day is nonstop Olympics coverage. It makes me wonder; did real news stop for the Olympics? Are there no political sex scandals this week? No big abduction cases to cover in explicit detail? Oh well, I’m sure when Matt, Meredith and Al are back in Studio 1A we’ll pick up right where we left off with fledging healthcare reform and a “much needed” update on Casey Anthony’s ongoing murder trial.

I can’t stand starting a book and not being able to finish it. I’ll carry a book in my gym bag every day for six months because I can only force myself to read three pages a week. At an old job all the girls were gaga for “Harry Potter” so I decided to read the first book. GAWD it took me forever. I just couldn’t get into it. The worst is when it takes you six months to read a book and the book’s ending was totally not worth the work. One time someone suggested a book called “Lucy Sullivan is Getting Married” and it was a major snooze fest. After six months and 600 pages (in tiny font) later – Lucy freakin’ Sullivan never got married! WTF?

It bugs me that Hollywood producers think the public is so easy to please that all they have to do is put 25 major celebs in a movie such as “Valentine’s Day” and they never have to bother much with a plot. This thing was too long and had too many storylines going on for my taste. It was one giant cliché. None of this stuff ever happens – at least not in my life. I can’t imagine my husband ever being up for swinging side by side on a swing set gazing lovingly at each other. Ever.

It bugs me when I’m peddling my ass off during one of my 35 mile bike training rides and women that seemingly look like they haven’t stepped foot in a gym in a decade are passing me left and right with virtually no effort. What.Is.Up.With.That? I mean GEEZ, I work out three days a week, lift weights, AND do these stinking training rides and I’m getting passed up by HER! Is the 75 mph wind not affecting those beyotches like it’s affecting me? GAH!

I hate when AFTER those whopping 35 mile bike training rides I’m the only one bitching about a sore ass and shooting pains in my thighs. I just want someone else to feel my pain. I wanna know I’m not the only one having to ask my husband to massage my butt when I go home. Yet when I ask around, people kind of shake their head like; “no, my butt really doesn’t hurt too much”. DAMN IT! Shoot me now.

Alright, that’s enough negativity for now.

Feel free to share your rants too. Think of it like therapy… I already feel 5 lbs. lighter!

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