Ah, the 70's...

...and I ain't talkin' bout the decade. Nope, I'm talkin' about the temperature... as in forty degrees ABOVE freezing. Pure, unadulterated perfection.

So you better believe I took full advantage of it. In fact, me thinks there's a bit of a sunkiss on my pale, winter-berated cheeks.

Don't get me wrong, the day wasn't all sunshine and flip flops. The first hour and forty minutes were dedicated to walking (>) six stinkin' miles... the first four or so in the gym and the next couple at Lake Mayer with Tricia. At least the company was good during the latter leg.

I can't say the same for the gym... there's this sweaty dude that worked out on almost every piece of equipment in the place, yet never once did I see him wipe down the equipment when he was done. (Gym rules state that you must wipe the machines down with disinfectant after each use.) Well crud, would somebody please tell Godzilla the Sweat Monster to please take care of this? Of course I'm too non-confrontational to say anything to him, or even the manager. Guess I'll have to leave an anonymous note... I'm SUCH a coward. Ugh.

Anyhoodles, after walking to the Promised Land and back, as well as a nice light lunch, I headed home for a change in scenery... specifically poolside scenery. Meow.

And while lounging in the sun, accompanied by three panting, sun-sprawled pups, I started the one thing I said I was NEVER going to start...

Yep, I did it. I bought the stinkin' book, The Girl Who Played with Fire. After the foulness of the first in the series, I'd sworn them off. But then people kept saying, "Oh, you've GOT to read the second book..." or "Man, the second book is SO good..." or "Wake up you freakin' moron and read the second book before your head explodes..."

And then yesterday morning while I was doing my very best water-buffalo- on-a-treadmill inpersonation, I noticed that the cute little redhead with the microscopic waist and Barbie doll butt was reading it as she chugged along on her oh so dang cool looking elliptical machine.

I figured it must be a sign. Not only did I jump on the elliptical machine after she left and manage to stay upright and drool-free for ten whole minutes (nothing compared to the forty minutes that most of the die-hards do), but I went to Walmart immediately afterward and picked up the book.

The best part, however is that when I placed the book in my buggy and turned around, lo and behold stood the cute little redhead with the walnut crackin' buttocks. I was like, "Hey I was just behind you on the treadmill at the gym, and you inspired me to get this book!" (I failed to mention that I tried to impersonate her on the elliptical machine and lasciviously covet her buns of steel.)

And she was like, "Oh my GOSH yes this book is SO good!"

So see? I had to get it. And now I'm reading it. And it's already traumatized me thirteen ways from Sunday, and I can't stop.

Hmmm... so let's recap. High in the 70's, good walk, nasty sweaty man, creepy book, hiney that looks like a couple o' young firm cantelopes packed in a sack.

I'd say this has been a pretty good day.

;)

Comments

You sure know how to enjoy your unemployment! I can't read anything traumatic - I just tried to start listening to a book about humorous/revenge/sisterhood and the description of the rape gave me nightmares. Sending the whole set back to the friend who loaned it to me!

Posted by: Sid | February 02, 2011 at 06:45 PM