Bull in a Hotel Fitness Center

Okay, so I was pretty proud of myself this time away from home on business. Time and time again, I've pledged to hit the treadmill before heading out to my meetings. Or before my head hits the pillow at night. But my trip to Indianapolis this week was a red letter trip: it was the first time I actually made good on my workout pledge. Perhaps I was feeling more restless than usual; perhaps it was the excitement over my trips to Meijer (see previous post). But regardless of the impetus, I hit that gym two times over the course of 2 1/2 days, and I am giving myself a high five for that (screw the middle school "no contact" rule).

I do have a HOWEVER, however. And that is this: what is the deal with the cheap ass equipment in there? The first day wasn't a big problem. I marched all of the way through "Friends" on the Lifestyle elliptical trainer. I think the machines went on strike for the second day, though. I couldn't get the elliptical trainer computer to stay on (it's only worth it if I can count calories burned - even if there's no way that is accurate). So I reluctantly switched to the one treadmill in the joint. My warm up at 4 miles/hr. was no sweat. But when I decided to go for a little jog, it was like an earthquake. My blackberry was bouncing all over the place, as was my room key (which actually jumped off the resting ledge on the instrument panel), and each step I took sounded like Godzilla (even with my iPod on in the background). So my question is, who is the target consumer for these cheap ass treadmills? I am 5'4", and well under 150 pounds, not to mention the fact that my little "jog" was, at its fastest, 6 miles/hr. And this is the kind of ruckus I caused? I shudder to think what a 200 pound man could do. I bet I could feel the vibrations all the way up in my room.

And speaking of gyms (the ones with the decent treadmills), why is it that they can charge all of that money per month and yet can't afford to lend me a towel that covers my ass?

It's all a mystery to me . . .

No Hugs For You!

While sitting at one of my favorite bars in DC, the Bottom Line (also known as the Purdue bar), last night, some news channel had a story about a school banning all physical contact for their students - this includes hugs and hi-fives and anything remotely related in that nature. Imagine my surprise when my husband informed me that the school was right in our backyard - Vienna, VA. The school is Kilmer Middle School and I found the article here:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/06/17/AR2007061701179.html

I read it and thought, 'How ridiculous!' For those of you too lazy to read the entire article, I will give you the Cliff's Notes version here:
Middle school boy puts arm around middle school girlfriend. Boy gets sent to principal's office and reprimanded. The Principal then puts a school-wide ban on physical contact...no touching allowed. The reason? These kids don't understand their boundaries as far as what's appropriate and what's not. Also, the school was built for 850 students and they have 1100 and everyone needs their personal space.

So with no physical contact, does that mean that in order to avoid bumping into anyone and intruding on their personal space, everyone's going to have to walk sideways? During gym class or sporting events, do they have to resort to the hi-fives where they start to hi-five eachother but then stop when their hands are 2-inches apart as if they were psyching eachother out?
At first when I heard about it, I thought, 'The parent that instigated this has just successfully made their kid into the social outcast of his generation.' But then when I finally read the article, I saw that it was the principal that actually instigated the rule.
So here are some situations that might be awkward in school should the 'no physical contact' ban continue:
1) gym class (of course) - no one gets congratulated for good plays anymore so even the worst athletes will never have to feel left out of that good play again
2) kid is having a tough time at home and needs to talk to someone. they breakdown in school in front of a teacher...does the teacher console the kid with a hug (cause sometimes you really just need a hug) or tell them there's no crying in school?
3) what do you do in the nurses office?
4) group projects - personal space is personal space - do they huddle around and stand at arm's length so as not to crowd eachother?

If you haven't noticed, I think this is one of the stupidest things I've ever heard. And I don't believe that at 12 -14 years of age, kids don't understand the difference between what is and what isn't appropriate. And if she really doesn't believe they do understand, then maybe they should cover it in health class. (And while they're in health class, show that 'Stoned' movie with Scott Baio - yes!)
I hope that the new and returning kids at Kilmer Middle School don't have to live with the ban when school starts up again.
And here's to hoping their principal gets some hugs this summer...sure sounds like someone could use one!

No Ma'am

Nothing makes me bristle more than hearing someone call me, "ma'am." Upon hearing it directed at me, I always stop and think, 'Was s/he talking to me?' and then I walk away muttering, 'I'm no ma'am!'
I tend to find this word directed at me more at the grocery store. I guess management at Wegmans train their employees to be polite, right down to the cart boys. I had one say, 'Thanks and have a nice day, ma'am' when I returned the cart to the cart return. I just turned around and stalked to the car mouthing, 'Do I look like a ma'am cause I don't feel like a ma'am!'
I still get carded at bars - even college bars. For being 31, I think I can pass for low-mid 20s, at the very least. I understand that these cart boys are like 15-17 years old, but still, I'd rather they don't address me at all. You want me to have a nice day? Don't call me 'ma'am.'
I had another situation occur earlier this year when I was shopping in the Brass Plum section of Nordstrom. (For those of you that don't know, Brass Plum (BP) is Nordstrom's junior department.) I was actually having a string of good luck finding some really cute things in there for myself and so when I happened to be in Nordstrom, I'd venture down to BP and check things out. One day, one of the sales girls walked by me and said, "Are you finding everything okay, Ma'am?" Ugh. Okay - maybe I don't have the body of a 'juniors' girl (I've always hated odd number sizes anyways) but if you want my business, don't call me 'ma'am.' I can't remember if I left shortly after that cause I felt like the sales girl might've been asking after me as if I was looking for a gift for my niece or something. I don't venture down to BP very often anymore.
Who should be a ma'am, then? Maybe someone over 40 or someone that looks like they're over 40. I'm thinking June Cleaver.
So where does that leave the 30-somethings? Hmmm....to quote Britney Spears, 'I'm not a girl...not yet a wo-ma'am.' So maybe you just shouldn't address us at all - just tell us what you want and leave it at that. I think most of us would be much happier if you did - at least I know I would!
When I reach 40, we'll see how I feel about it then. In the meantime, no ma'ams for me.

Meijer's Thrifty Acres

You know you show signs of shopoholism when even discount shopping can generate some excitement on a trip. I am here in Indianapolis for business. My hotel is near a Meijer's Thrifty Acres. For those of you who don't know, Meijer's is a Midwestern "everything but the kitchen sink" store offering discounted prices on everything from baked goods to floor mats. It's like a Super Wal-Mart. Only way better. Slightly less cramped together, and from what I've noticed, fewer check writers and extended families all huddled together in one aisle (it also appears significantly cleaner, but I haven't been there during the graveyard hours or on a weekend in a very long time). I knew I had to stop somewhere on the way back from my meetings for some contact lens solution (I always forget SOMETHING), but I did not know I would be so lucky as to stumble on a Meijer's so close to my hotel. I probably spent a good hour in there, picking up some Purdue paraphenalia (including a football jersey beer coozy and two shirts for Shawn - sadly, no girlie gear...), running shoes, gum, a diet coke, the contact lens solution, and a duffle bag. The duffle bag was so that my new stuff could come home with me. I nearly acquired a new hair dryer and some workout shorts, but at a certain point enough is enough, you know? Of course, there's always tomorrow night . . . .

Work Got In The Way (subtitled: Why My Posts This Week Suck)

Okay, so Hispanic Heritage Month is still three months away, but that doesn't mean I can't give a little shout out to Gloria Estefan. Here goes:

"I realize you’re wanting something new
My posts were short – the most that I could do
My less than clever moody side
The one I wish would try to hide from me

But you know when you have something on your mind
You’ve been trying to share it for the longest time
So before you surf your other sites
I want a chance to finally make it right

But the work got in the way
There’s so much I want to say
But my job has been rough
All of my deadlines are tough
I just want to laugh again

I had no time for my US
I felt like raising a fuss
Wanting to say something fun
But the work got in the way."