Why I Love Online Dating

Because the title of this article is so self-explanatory, let me start with a little disclaimer. I’m biased when it comes to online dating. I have a personality that suits online dating well. I love meeting people and am extremely open to new people and am anal-retentively organized which allows me to make time for whatever I find to be important. So when I decide that I want to meet people and date, I actually make the time to do so and meet a lot more people than the average person and find time for more dates.

Secondary disclaimer: I am currently dating and am all kinds of crazy about a guy I met online. So this article will inherently be influenced by that. But to be fair, I’ve gone on dates with and even dated other men I met online who didn’t make me swoon like current boo. So I’m not totally biased.

online-dating2-1h3togtBut I want to write about my experience only because I feel like people can look so snootily down upon online dating. They act like by meeting people through the internet, you’re somehow taking away from some sort of human experience and toying with the “fates” or something cooky like that.

I disagree. Big time.

I had a great time when I was online dating. I treated it like a game. It was fun and easy. I didn’t take it all that seriously. I didn’t get highly invested in any guy I never met in person. It didn’t matter how much we chatted, I’m a firm believer in meeting in person. If that in-person meeting was too hard, screw it. I’ll go back to the numbers game and meet other people that could be easier to meet. I met lots of people who were fun and interesting who I would never engage in a romantic relationship with, but had a great time getting to know. I made friends and went on crappy dates that I could laugh about later. I went on mediocre dates that I could reflect on and figure out why I had the experience I did. I learned what I wanted and what I’m looking for. And I had a great time just having a fun game-like distraction of chatting with people I wouldn’t otherwise meet in what I considered to be a large online bar.

Maybe it’s because I deal with so much rejection in my own career that I’ve developed really thick skin. Maybe it’s because I just never got that invested in someone I never met so I never let them have any control over my mood. Maybe it’s because I have a friendly and open personality that likes to flirt. Whatever the reason, it suited me to at least try out dating people I met online. I could find time for a coffee. Who knows what will come of it. One coffee I got lead to a really interesting conversation from a guy who was in charge of a huge movie producer’s estate and going through all these incredible artifacts of this man’s life from a 3rd party perspective. A year later, another coffee down the street lead to me meeting a man who I would fall totally in love with in no time.

You never know where this stuff will lead. People take it very seriously. They think there are some sort of rules. I think that’s silly. We’re changing the nature of how we interact. We’re changing the nature of how we communicate. We’re changing the nature of how we interpret and express ourselves in the world. Why wouldn’t, then, we change the nature of how we initiate and experience our romantic relationships?

By getting on a dating website, you’re putting yourself out there. That can be scary if you let it. But you could just treat it like another game. It’s a variation on Angry Birds. Have fun with it. Let loose and be open to whatever it could bring. And if you don’t like it, don’t force yourself to do it. I have a very close friend who I adore who finds herself not feeling good when she’s playing with dating apps. For whatever reason, they don’t suit her. She’s seen how much I like them so she’s tried. But it just isn’t her speed. So I told her to stop! Do whatever makes you happy. Just because it works for me doesn’t mean it’ll work for you.

When I was dating, it was fun for me to go online. I treated it like window shopping. And I like to shop. I like to check out my options and just know there’s something out there. I’m lucky enough to have met someone who suits my needs and makes me have no desire to “shop” online. I’m a satisfied lady on all levels. We have a ton in common and are highly compatible but likely would have never met in “real life.” So we connected online. Then we met in real life. And connected in real life. And now have created a real life romance that enhances all aspects of the other very real elements in both of our lives.

And I have a so-called “dumb” dating website to thank for one of the best things that I’ve got going for me. Take that, internet.

So pooh on you if you’re philosophically opposed to online dating without ever even trying it. If you try and you don’t like, you don’t have to commit to it. Just like a person you met online. So what have you got to lose? Try it already! You just never know!

Also, don’t be an idiot. Always meet strangers in public places and keep friends up to date on your whereabouts until you’re sure they’re not a terrifying serial killer. I went on a lot of dates and only met one certified creeper, so… may the odds be ever in your favor.

 

Doubling Up

I went through a phase last month where I wasn’t able to work out all that much. While I didn’t like it, I no longer let myself get really bent out of shape about it. I was doing my best and my time just wasn’t such that I was able to get to the gym regularly. So be it. It happens sometimes.Exhausted-300x225

Part of what kept me calm was the knowledge that life is about phases and I would soon have a much calmer schedule that would allow me to get to the gym with the regularity that I like. So I started scheduling myself to do more classes and carve out specific times where I could make it to the gym and whip myself back into the shape I like to be in (or even better… because we always like improvement, dowenot?).

So that’s what I did. Starting the first day I was available in April, I’ve been hitting up the gym regularly and classes I don’t normally go to in order to challenge my body and start to see some definite results.

Some nights, I even go from a difficult full body workout class right into another full body yoga class. I feel it when I do this. I’m not in as good of shape as I think I am. I remember the days of 3 hours of sports practice after school, but my body doesn’t yet remember how to pace itself for that.

But I’m learning. And I’m challenging myself. And I’m doing my best. And I don’t want to choose just one class because I currently have time for both and I won’t always have that luxury. So I want to take advantage of it while I can and see what I can accomplish.

I’m not in high school anymore. I don’t need to partake in 2-a-days. I don’t have anything specifically I’m training for. But that doesn’t mean I can’t continue to push myself while I have the luxury of time and just see what happens.

Besides, with the schedule that I keep, it could be that I won’t have time in most of May for exercising as much as I like to. So we gotta live for the moment and ride these whims when our body wants it. Even when it causes our body to be sore and exhausted. It also feels challenged and exhilarated. And that’s a good feeling.

 

Yoga … biatches

I talked before  about how I’ve been trying to do more yoga lately. I started actually committing to it and being social and going out of my house to do it.

Crazy, I know.

But I’ve been totally loving it.Yoga-dogs-1

I have tendency to be a bit of a hermit. I talk about it. I’m a strange mix between loving to be social and loving to go out with people and needing to stay in and being very particular about the energies I keep around me at any given time. That sometimes means I’m particular about my company and that I prefer the company of my own brain to just going out for the sake of going out. That sometimes leads to me staying in my apartment for hours and turning very anti-social and mildly creepy.

On more than one occasion, my poor sweet man will ask me how my day was after I’ve spent it alone in my apartment with my own thoughts and will have to deal with a very energetic Briana who’s taking all of her pent up social energy out on one person and has somehow in one day forgotten the basic tenants of proper human interaction.

I’m a lucky lady to date a very patient man.

I say all that because I’ve been using my commitment to yoga to become more physically and spiritually balanced. And in that balance, it means getting a little out of my comfort zone and going to classes with other people and teachers who aren’t YouTube videos and may give actual corrections to what we’re doing. It means I have to put on real workout clothes and drive a short distance to park and make eye contact with people before settling down into the practice. It isn’t as “productive” time-wise, but I think it’s good for my balancing.

And it makes me actually feel like I accomplished something.

And it’s made me calm down a little. Which, for my rather high-strung personality, can be a very good thing.

So I’m gonna keep on doing it and keep on pushing myself.

Sure, I’m only going to the classes at my gym while wearing oversized sweat pants and a t-shirt and haven’t yet committed to becoming an all out-yoga person. But that may not be the most balanced approach for me. If someday I find I need that to really keep pushing and challenging myself, then I’ll cross that bridge (pose) when I get there. Until then, yoga is all about what you can do today to check in with yourself and become a little better than you were yesterday in some way. For me, right now, that means getting out of the house and finding time to breathe amongst a bunch of other strangers who scare me while in a tiny multi-purpose room that has an annoying alarm that goes off every 4 minutes or so while people around me are quietly posing and texting. Who knows what the future hold, but this choice right now is making me enjoy the present even more.

Yoga…biatches.

Tax Day

taxesToday is tax day. This is no fun at all. For really anyone. I wouldn’t even say it’s fun for the IRS because it’s gotta be just as stressful for the getting all this information in (even if it’s with money) because, as they say, mo’ money mo’ problems. Luckily for me, for the past few years, the IRS has been taking big chunks of my money, thereby theoretically giving me less problems.
So… I guess I owe them a big fat THANK you. Emphasis on the angry first syllable of THANK.
 Since Taxes are no fun at all, I thought I’d take a moment to devise a list of 50  things that are much more fun than taxes to remind you of how much delight there is to be had in this world. I hope it helps you get through this tough day:
Ice cream sandwiches
Raccoons (at least Rocket Raccoon)
Not getting a sunburn after spending all day in the sun
Sparkly things
Well-trimmed beards
Blueberry flavored coffee (don’t knock it til you’ve tried it)
Hitting every green light on your way home
Text from someone you have a crush on
Falling in love
Funny shaped poop
Dogs. All dogs. Everywhere. Always.
Cats that act like dogs but then are kinda sweet and cuddle with you when you’re feelin chill.
Hearing a kid laugh at nonsense
People taking silly selfies
A really good conversation you didn’t expect (And when do you ever expect them?)
Meeting someone from a dating website only to find out they’re much cuter in person
Having all the right words ready to call someone out right when you want them
When someone at their mundane job is friendlier to you than they need to be
Puppies. Separate from dogs. Also deserve recognition for awesomeness.
Head scratches.
Uncontrollable laughter.
Autocorrect changing your text to something much funnier than you had
Australian accents
Discovering you like something new
Seeing a dog be carried while on a “walk”
Chai Tea Lattes with Almond Milk
A perfectly flipped omelet
Sweet and salty snacks while Netflix binging
Finding the perfect emoji sentence for your conversation
Splurging today
Saving for something awesome tomorrow
Accidentally getting drunk on good wine
Eavesdropping on a surprisingly interesting conversation
Catching up with an old friend
The free feeling you get after cutting off someone crummy
Watching old men fall asleep while waiting for their wives at the mall
Writing expressively with a really nice fountain pen
Getting a surprising number of “likes” on your social media update
Having such a great time in actual life, you forget to update your social media
Stained glass windows
State Fairs
The first day you start to feel better after you’ve been sick
A new outfit you found at a discount that somehow makes you feel like a million bucks
Really bad karaoke from someone who thinks they’re really good
Calling in sick to play hooky with someone you love
Ridiculously fun etsy finds
Driving with the windows down on a beautiful day
Flowers
Double rainbows

Parking Lot Friends

I’ve gotten into a bit of a routine. It works for me on 80% of the days when I’m on what a could be considered a “regular” schedule. Of course, with my schedule, that only really happens about 30% of the time. And to be fair, I hate 100% of all statistics so I don’t even know why I’m describing it all this way.
parking guy

But basically, I’ve gotten friendly with some of the guys who run the parking lot near the gym by my work that I try and go regularly.

In fact, lots of people have. They’re two of the friendliest guys in Culver City.

One of them calls me “Red hair.” I gather that’s likely because I have red hair. He says, “There she is. Reeeeeeeeed hair! Headed to get her workout on!” and as much as I can be a little hermity weirdo at the gym and don’t always like to make friend with the parking lot people because I’m strangely antisocial sometimes, I’m kinda crazy about these guys. They have a natural charm that unnerves me. One of them always has the biggest smile on. He especially seems to really enjoy talking to people who are coming to and from their car. They always make a point to smile and say, “Hi!” I see them chatting with everyone. They make what could be a mundane job into a really interesting and fun one. They create a sense of community and warmth that makes me look forward to seeing them when I am able to make it to the gym.

In fact, their friendliness is infectious and puts me in a good mood. And that makes me grateful to them. And that makes me feel connected to them. Even though we haven’t said more than a few words to each other. And that’s inspiring. And very cool.

And I like having friends.

And that is all.

Personal Space

I get not everyone knows gym etiquettepersonal-space-animals

I understand that it can be uncomfortable to take a class for the first time when everyone else seems to know what’s going on.

I even applaud that people can be in classes they’re way under-qualified for physically because they want to challenge themselves.

Cool, mama. Do your thing.

But there are some basic human interaction rules that still apply while you’re in class.

And there was a lady in the last Kickboxing class I took that was apparently completely unaware of all sense of personal space of basic class etiquette and it drove me bonkers. And of course only really affected me because God has a wonderful sense of humor.

So it started out like this. I get to class (on a rare rainy day in LA) on time. I’m in a good spot towards the back so I won’t get yelled at by the intense teacher I love but with direct eye line to the front. I’m evenly spaced out from the other participants, as is custom, and I’m ready and rearing to go. Class starts and a girl snags a spot a little too close to me, but it’s next to her obvious friend so I let it go.

And then she strolls in. About 10 minutes late. Casually strolling. The woman that will become my enemy throughout this class. I shall call her “Nancy.” Short for “Fancy Nancy” because she wasn’t so much kickboxing as she was doing whatever fancy move she felt like.

Nancy chooses the respectable spot open just in front and to the left of me. Nancy decides to start doing really whatever she feels like while the rest of the class does specific, disciplined moves. She kinda flops around. Of course I find this hilarious and am immediately distracted, but I let it go.

Until Nancy, about five minutes into her own unique workout, starts creeping near me. She starts straight up invading my personal space.

Now, let me remind you what kind of workout this is- Cardio Kickboxing. We are moving non-stop and we are kicking and punching. So if you get too close to someone, they could kick and punch you. And Nancy had, slowly but surely, gotten into my own kick and punch bubble.

But see I didn’t want to move. I can be really unreasonably stubborn about certain things. I got a good spot in class and I was maintaining my area as was everyone else in class, so why do I need to adjust to this woman? Instead, I did what I do best and got silently angry and mumbled “GO AWAY” to her between punches. I legitimately almost punched her a few times. In fact, about 15 minutes into class, when Nancy was basically standing on my left foot, I started using my frustration for her as inspiration for my hardcore punches.

I thought about shoving her.

I just admit that on the internet.

I, a pacifist who meditates regularly and believes in balance and happiness and zen, legitimately considered shoving a stranger out of my way.

That’s how frustrated I was.

I didn’t shove her. Eventually I glared her down and made a dramatic gesture to move to my right so I could have more space. I made a point to look around and see if anyone else was struggling with this. Of course not. Everyone else in class was having a perfectly normal class experience.

personal space dilbert

Nancy was standing so close to me it looked like we were friends so it made the teacher think we were pals and she equated us.  I know this because at one point, the teacher came over to break down some moves for us and looked at both of us and said, “Watch me, girls.” Then did the moves. I got pissed. We were not equals. I was kicking butt and taking names and Nancy was making fancypants moves all over the place.

Eventually, the only other girl slightly affected by Nancy (the one who originally got a little close to me to do the class next to her friend) left to get some water. When she came back, she chose to stand in the No Mans Land spot Nancy had abandoned in order to tie herself to my leg. I was glad the girl did this. I hoped it would encourage Nancy to move into her spot farther away from me. It did not. I had to keep moving.

I kept getting more pissed.

Luckily, unlike my frustration with the texting chick next to me in Yoga class, I was able to actually kick and punch away my anger during this class. Eventually the girl abandoned the No Man’s Land and I got fed up with Nancy. I stopped moving (a big “No no” in this class), let out a deep sigh of frustration, glared at Nancy, and moved up to the empty space that gave me plenty of personal room to get the rest of my moves in easily and happily.

Nancy didn’t even notice I was gone. The only thing she noticed was that she now had a direct view of herself in the mirrors and apparently liked what she saw. So she spent much of the rest of the class staring at herself and doing her own “Fancypants Nancy” moves in them while the rest of us pushed through a very difficult class until the last minute.

In the locker room afterwards, Nancy was talking to her friends were talking about how difficult the class was and dabbing off the mild sweat that had accumulated from staring at herself while other people around her got their asses kicked.

Nancy is what I like to call a Personal Space Cadet.

Don’t Blame The Joker, baby…

pimp…blame the game.

Comedians take a lot of heat. We take risks constantly and perform in all sorts of environments- hostile and friendly.

But what we risk more than anything is often being honest. Which can translate to “being edgy.” But I’m not talking about edgy in the overplayed “let me cuss a lot and offend everyone here possible” way. I’m talking about in the way that we say something that people really want to laugh at because it rings so true to them, but they don’t want to laugh out of fear of hurting someone’s feelings.

Let me start with saying I’m not a fan of any comedy that hurts feelings. I am, to a fault, a comedy person who likes to bring people along and not hurt feelings. I say  “to a fault” because it sometimes means I won’t be the most memorable comic of the night. I won’t be the person who pissed you off or who shocked you. I’m learning how to make my style of stand up comedy really sharp so I can be that… but it’s a process. And I refuse to become something I’m not just for the sake of being “memorable.”

But I digress. What I was saying was that sometimes, people say things that ring true to them that bring out some issue or problem that they can’t address directly. And oftentimes, they cloak it in a joke.

Now, I could get into a deep philosophical discussion about comedy as a means to an end and as a constant and necessary way of human expression. I would start there and delve further into the nature of political comedy and why comedians, no matter what their intention or actual political leanings, tend to get viewed as more liberal. I could even delve further from there into my own journey with comedy- with my roots and interest in politics and how and why it changed throughout the years.

But I ain’t got time for any of that right now. So I’ll get to the point.

And my point is this: If you don’t like the type of humor somebody spouts, don’t support stuff they do. But don’t demonize them into something or someone they’re not. They’re a person with an opinion. And odds are, they’re testing to see if material will even work and people will be receptive to them. And as long as they’re getting audiences to listen to their opinion, they’re going to keep saying and exploring it further. If they don’t have an audience, they would eventually stop saying it. But as long as they can find support, they’re going to continue saying whatever they want.

And they’re allowed to. A comedians job is to find their voice and to connect with audiences. It’s also part of the description to be an exaggeration of who you really are and what you really believe. The exaggeration is where comedy comes in. It’s the difference between the seasoned pro who spends his set yelling while making the audience scream with laughter and the terrifying amateur who scares everybody in the room and comes across as a crazy person. They’re job is to hone in that persona and that exaggeration. Their job is to sell a style. And your responsibility is to support it or ignore it. They’ll become louder or eventually shut up depending on what you decide.

But it’s not your job to get mad at them for saying things. It’s not your job- or anyone’s- to demand apologies for having opinions. All people have opinions. Just because comedians cultivate an audience to listen to them doesn’t mean they have any more or less responsibility to agree with you. They only have a responsibility to their own voice and to their art. If you don’t like what they say, stop listening. But don’t demand us to stop having opinions.

It’s especially difficult for comedians in a world where everything can be taken out of context and twisted. Context for comedy is everything. And if you take time to pause and think about what was said, why it was said, and how it was said… you’ll be able to have a more honest understanding of the situation.

I think sometimes when something controversial is said or brought up that hits a nerve in society, we should examine why we are bothered by that nerve rather than get upset that we have nerves. It’s an opportunity to define who we are and what we are, not an opportunity to shame someone for expressing themselves.

So don’t hate the playa’s baby. In face, don’t hate anyone or anything at all. Hate is harmful. Love is power. Love them playas and know why they playin’ the game so you, too, can love dat game doe.

Tampon

tamponListen. I’m not gonna call myself a Saint.

But… I’m basically a Saint.

I mean, I changed someone’s life significantly for the better. I made a difference. I showed a major act of kindness without any expectation of reciprocation.

If that doesn’t qualify me, I don’t know what will.

Probably writing about it so everyone can congratulate me on my good deed. Fine then. I guess I’ll continue.

The burden of my new Sainthood is already weighing so heavily on me.

This is what happened. It was a normal day at the gym in the locker room. I had just finished a really Saintly workout, when I went down to grab my things and go feed starving children in 3rd world countries without bragging about how great I am. A woman was next to me in the locker room. I considered giving her a hug just because that’s basically what people naturally want to do with me since I’m such a warm, good person and shit. But instead, I kept my head down and gathered my stuff while praying for world peace.

Then she spoke to me. Beckoned me, really. Because that’s what you do with a Saint.

She asked if I had a tampon.

I hesitated. Only because, as a near-Mother Teresa, I didn’t want to lie to her. I wanted to be honest like my Saintly peers. But I told her I thought so. And then I looked. And I did.

I had an extra tampon.

She had asked everyone else in the locker room for one. But they were all mere mortals. None of them were Saints who plan ahead for something like this. She was actually almost ready to go home and not workout (how easily we lose faith, my loyal followers). But then she asked me. A Saint. And I’m glad she did.

I gave her that dry wad of cotton to stick in her unmentionables to keep her from embarrassing herself and ruining a good pair of underwear. And then I smiled, allowed the halo around my head to glow a little brighter, and floated to my car.

When I got home, I replaced the tampon I gave away in order to prepare for the next woman who may need an incredibly life-changing and generous gesture.

You’re welcome, world.

Love,

Saint Briana of Tampons

Fight Club

fight clubSome of you are repeat readers of these blog posts. And for that, I sincerely thank you. If you’ve been a long time reader, you’ll know that I once wrote about a time I wanted to start a fight at the gym.

To be fair, I was very sleepy and very hungry. A dangerous combination for me.

I don’t always know how to conduct myself at the gym (since I sometimes want to take down old men), but I do know how to conduct myself as a human being. And I do know that I find people being assholes to each other hilarious.

So now that you also know that information, let me tell you what happened at the gym the other day. Because it was hilarious. And doesn’t involve me.

Everything was going normal and I was listening to my cheesy pop love ballads while doing some sick free weight chest presses, right? (I’m telling a story about the gym… I’m gonna tell it like a bro. Chill, brah.) So I’m between reps trying to let my muscles recover a little so I can get totally massive and this dude comes in like hot. I don’t mean hot as in he was traditionally attractive (like Brad Pitt in the pic above). I mean hot like he’s on a mission and everybody around better get out of his way.

His mission, it turned out, was gathering all the possible weights he would need for his lifting session and putting them near the one bench he commandeered. Little gym etiquette: If it’s busy (like it was this day), it’s a pretty shitty move to gather up a bunch of weights and hold onto them as you do all your sets. It’s much more common (and just general common courtesy) to only use the weights you’re going to use and wait between sessions. If the gym is empty, have at it and set yourself up with whatever you need. But when it’s busy, don’t be a dick that hoards all the weights.

So this total dick was hoarding all the weights, right. And he’s got his earphones in and he’s like singing to himself and stuff and he’s walking like an all-around douchebag who’s oblivious to everyone else. I already didn’t like him, but I don’t like most people who are near me at the gym and he was sitting on the bench right next to me so I especially didn’t like him. Or the guy to the other side of me. But at least that guy was quite and ignoring me so I was able to be neutral to him. This guy was loud and obnoxious so I didn’t like. No likey. No thank you. No.

Then hoarder makes a mistake. He grabs some weights from a machine and starts to walk away with it. The machine, however, was being used. It wasn’t being used at the exact moment hoarder grabbed the weights, because the man standing right next to the machine. But he was clearly just between reps. So machine man starts immediately yelling at the hoarder because taking a man’s weight while he’s using it is basically fighting words at the gym. But hoarder compeltely ignores him and keeps walking back to his bench with the weight. Machine man yells louder and louder until he’s basically screaming “HEY!” right in hoarder’s face in the middle of a crowded gym. Hoarder finally gets the hint, takes his (obviously really excellent) earphones out when machine man tells him he took his weight. Hoarder could have been cool about it and apologized and moved on. But this was a dude who was hoarding weights at a very crowded gym. Hoarder is clearly not a very considerate man.

So instead, he yells back at machine man and claims he wasn’t use the weight. Machine man explains that he was between reps, as is what happens at the gym. He also explains that there are a ton of these weights not in use that hoarder could have taken. But instead of, again, being cool about it and apologizing because he was by all standards completely in the wrong, hoarder gets mad again at machine man and tells him he didn’t have to yell at him. Machine man, at this point beside himself and clearly enjoying the audience he has from everyone else in the crowded gym, explains in very close proximity to hoarder’s face, that he had to yell because he tried several different volumes that hoarder consistently ignored.

Most of the crowded gym has stopped their workout to watch all of this go down because it was entertaining as hell. I think everybody wondered if there was going to be a fight. I certainly wondered it. I wondered out of curiosity, of course, but also out of safety because this whole thing was going down right next to me. I got remnants of hoarder’s spit and machine man’s sweat.

Once I realized my proximity, I realized that most people who were looking at them could steal a quick glance over to me. And that’s when I caught my expression in a mirror. It’s the same look I get when you tell me I’m about to see an adorable puppy that’s going to tell me hilarious jokes. I’m holding back giddiness and laughter. Which, at this particular supercharged moment in a gym filled with frustrated, muscly dudes with a lot of testosterone who want to prove they’re more than their boring day job… was probably not the smartest face to have.

But I couldn’t help myself. The whole thing was hilarious. Confrontation is hilarious. People being assholes and unaware of the world around them is hilarious. People picking fights with other humans for petty reasons is hilarious. Life is all one giant, cosmic joke and sometimes I think only a small percentage of us get it.

Of course I agreed with machine man. But at the same time, we’re all just flesh and blood idiots trying to hide the fact that all of us want to be loved and accepted and are terrified of our own mortality. So who cares if hoarder was acting like a total douche. This is obviously one of the only places he can act like a badass and can find some sense of stress relief. Yes, what he did was stupid. But do you need to yell at him? Why raise your blood pressure and embarrass him and make a scene just because he’s an idiot? I dunno. Just say something quietly. Or go grab another weight and go up and give it to him and get yours back on principle. Then maybe give him a hug and say you’re more than willing to help spot him if he wants to max out on his last rep. And afterwards maybe you two can get coffee and bond over the fact that this meaningless activity will help prolong a life that most likely has no actual impact at on the outcome of the universe but it’s still fun to do.

Or maybe that’s just because I listen to a healthy mix of Star Talk and Pop Ballads at the gym, so I tend to get in a strange head space.

Whatever, the point is there wasn’t a fight but there could have been and I found it all very funny.

At least I think that was the point.

Are you still reading?

You poor thing.

And also thank you.

(PYT) Member Appreciation Day

bikiniDisclaimer: I don’t know this chick. I just googled “PYT” and she had abs so I figured good enough.

The other day, my gym had “Member Appreciation Day.” I had seen the signs up for it but didn’t think much of it. I like to be left alone at the gym. And when I’m running errands. And when I’m at coffee shops. I’m mostly a hermit who can sometimes trick people into believing she’s social.

I only noticed because a trainer came up to me after I did a set. He asked me if I liked the exercise I was doing, because he had a variation for the same muscle group that was even more challenging. He called my exercise “skull crushers” (which made me feel pretty badass) and showed me another tricep exercise using my bodyweight and gravity. I was my usual quiet gym self, barely mumbling a thank you as I reluctantly did what he showed me. I shyly looked off and said thank you so he would go away. He smiled and found another gym member who was working on squats. He then worked with her for quite some time on different exercises. I even saw him helping her stretch a while later. Before I left, he was working with yet another gym member and showing her some exercises.

I thought it was odd someone was wandering around giving tips and pointers, but then saw a sign for “Member Appreciation Day” and put two and two together. Then, I realized that the man was only hovering and helping young, female members of the gym. He had a very specific way of showing his “appreciation.”

I can’t prove that he was biased. But I do know that the other two women he was working with seemed a lot friendlier than I was, and he was with them for a whole lot longer than he was with me. And that there were a ton of men everywhere… who seemed to need no help at all.

I appreciate the appreciation… but I’m onto you, buddy. I’m onto your little games.

And also if I had known you were hitting on me, I would have been so much friendlier! Next time just make it more obvious!