The struggle bus to the gym, the movies, or just off the couch.
Things I Dislike Right Now:
- Scientology commercials
- The “Cardio Dance Party” class at my gym
- Shia LaBeouf
- The distance between my house and the county fair
What I find most bothersome about the Scientology commercials is the fact that when I see them in the haze of my bullshit existence, I start to think, “Wow. That’s maybe a good idea.” Then the next commercial starts and I realize what I was just thinking and I resist the urge to punch myself in the face and focus on finding the will to get out of bed and put some pants on. Also, since Teen Nick and related networks are the only channels I watch nowadays, I am really bothered by how often I see these commercials. IF YOU DON’T WANT YOUR RELIGION TO LOOK LIKE A CULT, STOP TRYING TO STUPEFY CHILDREN, ASSHOLES.
My Cardio Dance Party struggles are related in that they also emphasize my current failures as a human being. I would not call what I do in that class “dancing” nor can I really say it’s a “party” since there is never any tequila present, but I kind of jump around for an hour and sweat a lot so I think I am fulfilling the cardio portion of the objective. This class reminds me of those commercials for dance-exercise videos (which you won’t be familiar with if you tend to be asleep around 3am instead of watching infomercials) that always feature an instructor and a room full of fit people who know all the moves. My class is a lot like this. Then there’s me and two other normal people chilling in the back punching the air and trying not to hurt ourselves. Of course, there is a glass door to the rest of the gym right by our loserville section, so all of the people on the machines can watch us make fools of ourselves. It’s a good time. If I hadn’t already exhausted my ability to be bothered by public humiliation, I might not be able to go to this class. Ultimately, jumping around in circles is about a million times more fun than spending an hour on the death machine treadmill. Also considerably less humiliating, but that’s a story for another day. Also, I like to believe that I motivate those people and make them feel better about their own lives.
My relationship with the gym has become a fundamental part of my self-image. My job hunt is going nowhere. My GRE prep class is boring, which makes it really hard to focus on, when stupid YouTube videos are constantly calling for my attention. Going to the gym is a way to say, “Look, I can commit to things. I can be focused. I can better myself.” Also, losing weight has become less a matter of my actual wish to lose weight and more about the fact that it could be the one thing I have to show for myself when I talk to all of my friends who are either employed or back in school.
The other thing I have is my vast knowledge of every movie out now. One of the perks of small town living is the affordability of movie tickets. I see lots of movies, of varying quality. Mostly really bad movies. (Though I would happily go see Inception every single day if I could). The other day Ashley and I went to see Ramona & Beezus and then we stayed to see Dinner For Shmucks for reasons I still can’t discern. I saw yet another preview for the new Wall Street and got sad that Carey Mulligan is making out with one of my least favorite actors on the planet, Señor Douche himself, Shia LaBeouf. My hatred of Mr. Douche is even less rational than my hatred of Anna Paquin. He just looks like a complete tool. Whenever I see him on a talk show, he supports my hatred of his stupid face by then acting like a tool. This is a struggle in my life primarily because I see so many movies and I cannot escape this preview.
On our way to the movies I was pulled over for speeding (which, in a weird way, is part of why we stayed for the second movie, but I’ll get to that). I knew that cops were out in full force because of the drunkards leaving the County Fair, but I wasn’t thinking about it because we were totally late for the cinematic genius that we knew Ramona & Beezus would prove to be. The proliferation of cops on the one and only road I have ever been ticketed on (here in town, that is…) has been a real problem and I am really glad the county fair is ending. I would be so much better off with the drunk hillbillies if I had someone to go to the fair and be drunk with. Alas, I do not, so they only create problems for me.
But, to end this on a good note, Things I Really Like Right Now And Almost Always: Fictional holidays and my baby sister. Aside from the fact that her being 15 gives me the ability to do all sorts of stupid things under the guise of being a good big sister (like going to see Selena Gomez movies or watching her on tv or any other things that pertain to the fact that I not-so-secretly think she’s awesome). While the cop was checking my license and insurance and verifying the fact that I am not a convict, I was telling Ashley that if it were one of my parents, they would probably get off. However, I am young and driving a flashy car and cops just don’t like that. He came back and asked me for a good reason why he shouldn’t give me a ticket. Without skipping a beat Ashley answered, “Because it’s sister’s day!” I did not get a ticket. (Which in turn put me in such a good mood that when I was asked if I also wanted to buy tickets for the midnight showing of Dinner for Shmucks I was like, “SURE! I AM HAPPY! HERE, TAKE ALL THE MONEY!”)
Anyone else have any excellent tales of sibling awesomeness?