Fitness room

In working through my 12 for 2012, I had an idea to create a fitness room in my house.  This will help numbers 4, 7, and 8 on my list.

This came to me after months of wanting to join a gym but not wanting to spend the money, especially after David got laid off.  My workplace has a fitness area, but there's something about working out in front of my co-workers that makes me want to stab myself in the face.

I mean, it kind of seems unprofessional, right?  I participate in meetings with these people, and I can't do that if I've seen them work out.  Then there's me:  I don't want them to see me like that.  Red face, running make-up, grunting and hacking.  It's just something you can't un-see.  I don't exactly look like Heidi Klum when I'm working out.

Anyway, so I did some research on gyms in my area, and I came to the conclusion that gyms suck.  Paying thirty dollars a month to run on a treadmill when I already have a treadmill is stupid.  I just didn't have anywhere to put my treadmill.

So I thought and thought.  I'd rather work out at home, but I don't want an eyesore treadmill to be in the way...Where could I possibly put my workout equipment?  

Oh yeah, I thought, I suppose that room upstairs that no one uses and has a bunch of boxes in it.

I'm dense for not realizing it sooner, but boxes can be stored in attics.  That's apparently what attics are for.  I'd been stuffing everything into this 12x7 room upstairs -- an old sofa, a bunch of David's mementos from the Army, Christmas decorations... who knew those things were supposed to go in the attic?  No one told me this.

The room will eventually have my treadmill, fitness ball and yoga mat.  We'll also install David's old flat-screen high-def TV onto the wall, get a second DVR, and move my DVD player in so I can have something to distract me from the insane sensation of moving uncomfortably fast.

I would've taken a "before" picture of the room, but there wasn't much to see.  I'll take an "after" photo, though.

So today, David and I have begun the process of clearing the room out.  One little problem:  We don't have a ladder.  (I used to.  My ex-fiancĂ© took it when he moved out.  Apparently there's a bigger need for ladders when you live in an apartment in New York City... as opposed to a 2 1/2 story house located in an area notorious for its roof-damaging storms.)

With us not having a ladder, David attempted to hoist me up into the attic so that I could grab boxes he hands to me from below.  One more little problem:  Ever since I went skydiving, it seems I've developed a redonkulous fear of heights.  I stepped up on a nightstand and prepared to get pushed up into the attic when I suddenly couldn't move.  My hands gripped the door frame in front of me while also shaking uncontrollably.

"When did you suddenly become afraid of heights?" David mocked, and I replied with, "nnnnhnhnh."

So he stood on the nightstand, and I handed boxes up to him.  I looked up to watch him slide a box up into the attic, and then the ground started to move.  I caught myself on the wall of the hallway.  I had vertigo.  We called it a day soon after that.

I'm still a little shaky.  My hands are still tingling.  This process might take a while.


I'll probably delete this post.

Sometimes, late at night, when I'm going through my friends' Facebook photo albums, I think...

"Dude.  If you'd married me, you wouldn't have an ugly wife and a kid that looks like a retard."

All these guys I knew in high school seem to have extremely ugly, stupid families.  Women that support that Romney idiot.  Children that have to be at least four years old and are still wearing diapers.  Men, women, and children grimacing for the photo.

When people become parents, they seem to consider themselves photographers for some reason, and all I see are pictures of kids.  Kids I don't know... kids I don't think are cute.  I'm sure that, if I'd met them in person, they might do cute things before they crapped their pants and demanded cookies... but in general, kids aren't that cute.

My nieces are pretty cute.  They've both got cute personalities.  They're both independent, creative, imaginative, funny, and intelligent.  They're like me in some ways -- stubborn, needy at times, picky, quirky.  But also like me... they're both loving and loyal, yet logical.

I'm still not married, and I don't have kids.  But I'd rather be thin and have a good-looking kid.

I'm an atheist, so you can't bandage my last statement by saying that I'm going to hell.  .... because telling me that I'm going to hell is like telling me that Peter Pan is about to run for governor.

Why is it that the only time I was (technically) ever proposed to, it was from someone who didn't actually know what he wanted?  He was everything I wanted, which is a short list:

  • He would be a good dad;
  • He was funny;
  • He was nice to me;
  • He was an atheist;
  • He had a loving family.

Those aren't in order.

Then he looked for a reason to get out.  I still can't forgive either one of us.

In other news, I was at the Indy 500 yesterday.  I took a lot of video.  I will let you see the video.  Tomorrow.

I majored in English, Creative Writing, and Linguistics at fucking Purdue University... and I can't describe how awesome the Indy 500 is.  Which is still okay by me, because it's awesome.  I welcome the opportunity to try to describe it.



David has started a blog on IndyCar here.  He only just created it today, so be patient if it goes through some changes.

Pole Day, 2012

I'll also write about IndyCar today, as this past weekend was filled with qualifying and this weekend is the Indianapolis 500.  I posted about my love of the 500 a year ago, but a lot has changed since then:
  • Dan Wheldon's death affected everything about IndyCar.  The new chassis for the safer cars were named after him.  Fans mourned worldwide.  New rules.  Cancelling the Las Vegas race from 2012's schedule.  People asking if racing is worth it. 
  • David's love for IndyCar grew, and we've started having get-togethers for every IndyCar race.  Almost every weekend this spring, we've gathered and watched each race on TV, with my laptop open running the live feed and Twitter simultaneously for additional coverage. 
  • No Jell-O shots this year.  They're just so messy.
I love everything about IndyCar.  Yes, it could use some improvement, but I have my memories.  If you want to read more about the IndyCar sentiment, follow David's blog -- linked above.

In other news, I got an iPhone, and this happens:


What I've been up to...

Includes my birthday present:  skydiving.  They recorded parts of it, and despite the fact that they edited it in with cheesy music, they did an okay job:

The #1 question I've been asked since then:  What is skydiving like?  Well, it's loud and cold.  And if I were to do it again, I would take a Dramamine first. 

The best part about skydiving was that I was tagging along with my 70-year-old aunt who was checking skydiving off her Bucket List.  She LOVED jumping out of that plane.  She's also a bit crazy.