Friday, March 31, 2006
Oh, the Usual.
So I went to have my "complimentary free personal training session" yesterday. I keep putting that in quotes because that's what they call it, even though saying "complimentary" implies "free" and vice versa...I guess they think it sounds better or something.
Anyway, I get changed into my fancy exercise clothes (okay, black pants and a black t-shirt, but the pants have a special media pocket to put my mp3 player in, so they're totally fancy) and wander over there. I stand and wait for Personal Trainer Guy to come out of his office.
A scruffy man walks up behind the counter with the other Counter Man and says, "Hey, dude." I keep waiting for Personal Trainer Guy. The scruffy man says, "Dude, are you going hiking?"
I realize he's talking to me. "Uh...hiking?"
"Dude, like, you have a backpack. That's so for hiking. Dude."
"Uh...it's got my clothes and stuff in it.
"Oh! Right! That's smart, putting stuff in a bag like that. Anyway, I'm ____, your personal trainer!"
All this "dude" and "hiking" and whatnot wasn't exactly inspiring confidence in me, but I decided since this was both free and complimentary, I would be a good sport.
We went back to his office where he proceeded to show me the Dark Elf character he was building for some video game he plays, which lead to a heady discussion of the upcoming Silent Hill movie and whether or not it would be good (we decided it will not be good. We decided that, in fact, it will be fucking awesome) and then a further discussion about how he has not yet seen Brotherhood of the Wolf (directed by Christopher Gans, who has directed Silent Hill) because he didn't think it would be good for his kids to see.
"Why not just watch it after they go to bed?" says I.
"Oh...that's a great idea! I never thought of that."
Yes, we did eventually talk about exercising. We decided that he would not make the best trainer for me, and that instead, I should meet with Honey (yes, that's her real name) because she works with people with arthritis and fibromyalgia and suchlike. She called me later and she seems nice, so I am looking forward to meeting her.
I realize that the session that is both free and complimentary is just an hour for them to try to sell me more sessions that will be neither free nor complimentary, but I figure I can at least get a basic idea of a routine sort of thing that I can follow on my own.
Remember when I said about walking into walls and stuff? Uh yeah.
Had another moment of utter gracefulness a little bit ago.
In order to go out for a smoke, I have to walk through our darkened back conference room, which happens to have a little stage on which a video camera sits, for filming purposes. The room is very dark and the stage is very black. As I was coming back from outside, squinting, I managed to bang my knee on the point of the stage and pitch forward, falling over said stage and landing on my face.
Yes. I am graceful, much like a ballerina or something.
So, I laid there, rolling about and going, "SON OF A WHORE" and "OW" and "DON'T CRY! DON'T CRY!"
Because if there's anything worse than falling flat on your face at work after banging your knee hideously hard against a pointy wooden object, it's bursting into tears at work after falling flat on your face after banging your knee hideously hard against a pointy wooden object.
I managed to hobble out and my boss made me an icepack while trying (unsuccessfully) not to laugh at me, so now it's only slightly swollen, and I guess it could be worse.
Here's my Misfits shoes, as per Ford's request. I am wearing them today, even though I forgot I have to conduct an interview with a potential new employee and I should look professional, i.e. not wearing sneakers with the Misfits Fiend on them. Oh well.
That last one there is from the inside of the shoe. Oh yes, it is sweet.
Anyway, guess I better prepare for interviewing. More later...
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Zombie Goes to the Gym
Isn't that weird?
After several years of being what I so delicately like to term a "fat cow," I've decided that I shall lose some weight. I would like to get back to what I was before my children ruined my life -- err, body -- so I'm counting that as my goal right now. I will NOT post exactly how much I weigh, but let's just say it's somewhere in the 10 metric tons area. Yeah.
So, last week, I signed up at the gym around the corner from where I work. It's convenient and inexpensive, and I get a corporate discount since some of the other folks in the office also go there. I toddled over last Thursday to hand over my money and was given a tour. My fee includes all the classes and things, so I can take advantage of spinning (uh, no) or yoga (sorry, not that bendy right now) or whatever else without paying extra. Nice.
Anyway, while the Nice Membership Signer Upper Man was giving me a tour, I couldn't help but notice that no fat people were around. Could it be that I would be the only fat member of this fine athletic establishment?
"Perhaps they are skulking about in the corners, afraid to be seen in the light?" thought I.
But nay. Fat people were not in evidence. Instead, I witnessed what I can only describe as a meat parade, with tiny, thin women that probably subsist on cocaine and sticks stalking around in tiny Lycra shorts.
As I cannot wear Lycra shorts*, myself, I worried that I would not fit in. I would NOT be invited to sit at the cool kids' table! I would NOT get to experience whatever it is that these people experience on a daily basis!**
But no, Zombie is not at the gym for a fashion show or meat parade. Zombie is at the gym to shed unwanted pounds. Zombie will not worry about stick-eating, cocaine-snorting, Lycra-clad gym bunnies.*** Zombie will do her thing and leave.
So, this morning I showed up for my first workout. You might wonder why it took me until today to go, and I will tell you: shoes. I had no sneakers and I didn't figure that my Doc Martens were gym appropriate. So I had to order some from Zappos. I got purple and black KangaROOS. They rock. Also, whilst browsing for utilitarian gym sneakers, I found a pair of Misfits sneakers, which, of course, I had to purchase, because how cool is that? Misfits shoes? That rocks. AND I found an awesome pair of open-toe black leather slingbacks, but those will have to wait until I get paid...and I'm digressing.
Anyway, so, I get in there and lo and behold...my people! Apparently, the fat people come in in the mornings! So then I did not feel so lonely.
I did attempt to ride the stationary bike for a bit and it bruised my ass, so I think we'll stick to the treadmill for now. I am semi-competent at walking, having been doing so for roughly the last 23 years of my life, and I managed not to fall over anywhere,**** so all in all, I chalk it up to a good day.
Tomorrow, I get my "complimentary free personal trainer session," so that will be interesting...
*Okay, so technically, I could wear Lycra shorts, were I so inclined...but I fear for the lives of those around me were I to do so...so as a Public Health Service, I shall refrain from the wearing of said shorts or any other article of clothing that contains Lycra. You're welcome.
**I'm not sure exactly what experiences those might be, but I think they might involve self-tanner and wire hangers. Don't ask why...just a hunch.
*** All right, all right -- Zombie will worry about the stick-eating, cocaine-snorting, Lycra-clad gym bunnies, but Zombie will pretend not to.
****You may or may not remember this, but I am not exactly graceful, especially since the fibromyalgia hit. I have a tendency to walk into stuff and then stare at it confusedly, like, "Who put the wall there?" Y'know.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
So, I've decided to start the blog back up - mostly because I have stuff to blog about again.
I somehow highly doubt any of my readers are left, but on the off-chance that you are or manage to find your way back here - HI!
What's New With Zombie
Well, I have a new job...I'm actually getting paid to write now, so that's fun. I'm also getting paid to do tech support/web design/content management/editing. And did I mention I'm getting paid?
I also have my own little office. The key word there is "little," but it's still an office, dammit. This pleases me to no end. I even have Executive Toys on my desk, like this little silver swingy thing that does...well, I don't know what it does, because it hasn't got any batteries in it, but if it did have batteries, I bet it would do something fucking awesome. I also have a company cell phone, to which I have attached a goth Hello Kitty and a punk Hello Kitty cell phone strap/thing/charm/mascot/whatever it's called, so that I may speak with my Very Important Clients and still keep it real, yo.
What's Not New With Zombie
I'm still the same surly bitch I always was, so don't worry about that. In fact, over the past year, I do believe I may have elevated it to an actual art form. Perhaps one day, I will be enshrined in a museum. A real museum, not a shack that houses the World's Biggest Ball of Twine or whatever. No, a real museum, because my Surly Bitchness is extremely classy and stuff.
Anyway, this is just a short post to get back into the groove of things, as it were. Tomorrow is my first visit to the gym (yeah, shut up) around the corner from my office, so I'm sure I'll have something interesting to bitch about after I return from that.
Zombie + Exercise = Ranting.