Is LA Fitness safe for its employees and customers?

That time of year from Thanksgiving through Christmas always seems to "round me out" a bit. Seriously, I started to sound like a zipper when my thighs rubbed together. My boobs and butt were in two different time zones. So I did what everybody else does this time of year and I joined the gym.

The whole process began with a thin perky blond named Brittany sitting behind her desk wanting to know how committed I am to my fitness. Oh Lord she's qualifying me (being the sales snob that I am) and I won't cooperate. I smile and stare at her. She has no idea who she is dealing with. I'm already in a bad mood since I have to 1. join the gym 2. spend the money and 3. deal with her big toothy smile "made possible with Crest white strips". Then I tell her the truth. "I'm a retired swim suit model with a thyroid problem so I only want a month to month membership."

With my big girl pants on (snug in the waist and crotch) I make my way to the locker room. Womens locker rooms are interesting. I'm always amused at the number of tattoos. There was one young woman who had such a complicated colored tattoo from her elbows to her waist that you could not make out her nipples. All I could do was imagine how elongated it's all going to end up over time. Like a melted candle with only a resemblance of what used to be. And then my mind wandered to thoughts about how tragic it will be for a baby to be breast fed by her...."go ahead..scare the shit out of your little one before they've had a chance to grow up and be afraid of clowns". What has the world come to.

So finally I make it to the actual work out area and I will not go into details about my work out because it was not interesting nor can I describe it in an attractive manner.

My first day at the gym taught me a big lesson. Do not go at 10 a.m. TIMING IS EVERYTHING. When I stepped into the gym I thought I'd just arrived at a funeral. I've never seen so many poorly dressed haggered elderly people in my entire life (sorry Mom). And some of them exited the treadmill looking twice as old as they did when they began. Not a good thing to do for regaining their youth.

So on my way out I summoned Brittany. I asked her if there was a dress code. She said "yes, we ask that our members not wear clothes that cause concern." I said "what about clothes that make me vomit." Her blank stare made me want to take a flash light to her ear.....I was sure it would project light out the other side. I simply explained that the "seasoned" crowd seems to think that it's 1982. Some are wearing striped sweat bands. Others, "Members Only" jackets. Three women had Christmas sweaters and one short Asian lady wore coral lipstick along with a zip-up sweat suit made of parachute material. The word "HELP" is written all over this gym and I don't know if I want my reputation tagged to it.

She said she would talk to her boss. I grabbed my transistor radio, white stitched pant suit and headed out the door. I felt pretty good thinking "I may have just provided this place a Muracle."

Holiday Gifting

Won't my son be surprised when he goes through his stocking this year. Let's see.....what all did I put in there. A bus ticket good for unlimited travel for a year, a map to his brother's house in California, a dopp kit and a bunch of Hotties in case he wants to shovel for me before he heads out.

Seriously, am I the only one who labors over trying to figure out what everybody "wants" for Christmas. And forget the luxury of anybody providing me with a "list" - sheesh, just giving me a list would be their Christmas gift to me alone. As everybody knows in my family, I'm impossible to buy for. I don't need anything and when I do mention wanting something the kids move like greased lightening to get it. I understand their relief. I like things with utility. Things you "use" therefore they don't collect dust. This year I have a Christmas gift honorable mention to share with you. My Andrea sent me the coolest return address stamp. Not some ordinary thing with times new roman print...hell no.....this is artsy, stylistic & a touch groovy. Lord, I cannot tell you how much I love this silly thing. I might even start writing letters, thank you notes and paying my bills via US postal service.

This year I have made great progress at putting my bitterness and cynicism about the holidays behind me. Not once have I heard "ho ho ho" and yelled "and a bottle of rum" back. Not once have I mentioned going to the midnight service at Our Blessed Mary of the Mattress. Not once have I referred to last minute mall shoppers as "single digit IQ people without internet." These are behaviors I am proud of and with years of practice moving forward, I actually have a shot at believing these things while embracing the love, warmth and tradition of Christmas.

So on that note I'll wrap up this posting so I can run Taylor to Target so he can get me a candle for Christmas. And like every year....he'll say "Mom I need help wrapping this thing" and with that I'll know that things are just right and quite normal for us....once again....this holiday season.

Isn't Christmas just filled with Muracles................

Life is all about your stories

Sometimes I just stand there and wonder why I interpret the world as I do. I mean seriously, things just can't be that funny, can they? To me, most things are funny, ridiculous or utterly insane for reasons I cannot explain. The fact that I'm sitting here in my living room with "Little Hotties" stuck to each foot makes me wonder if I'm dealing with a full deck. Little Hotties are hand and foot warmers. The kind you take out of the package, shake them a little and they heat up. The ones for your feet look just like sanitary napkins, sticky-back and all and they come complete with explicit instructions to stick them to your socks and NOT your feet (God Forbid) and to be sure you remove them immediately if they get too hot. Now this is where I start getting insulted because I figure if I'm smart enough to read and open the package, I certainly should be smart enough to remove them when I start on fire. Sheesh.....what genius invented these. And where'd you find the brilliant lawyer to draft those air tight liability instructions. Any way, they didn't work but I'll take a run at the hand warmers tomorrow. And then, since I have a whole case of these things.....I'm gonna come up with something, perhaps a new application so I can use up the box. I'm open to ideas.