Friday, July 27, 2007

Introductions in themselves are a cliche...

It took me over an hour just to name this blog and conjure up a title for the URL. Guess I'm a tad late to this whole "blog phenom" thing. I've never been one to follow a trend, unless it's on the the clearance rack at Macy's (80% off or something ridiculous like it), and by that time I'm about 6-8 months behind. *Licks finger and sticks it up in the air* Yep, seems about right.

You wouldn't believe how many 'blogspot' addresses have already been snapped up, only to be abandoned after their first post. Here's some of the winners that have been taken...

gingivitis.blogspot.com
readingthiswillmakeyousmart.blogspot.com
whogivesaratsass.blogspot.com
ihateblogging.blogspot.com
poopiepants.blogspot.com
hamsandwich.blogspot.com
bananahammock.blogspot.com
schmoopy.blogspot.com
doofusface.blogspot.com

No, I didn't want any of those (well, it was between hamsandwhich and bananahammock but I jest, I jest), I just assumed they'd be available and that mankind was not as pathetic as I'd hoped. I guess I should stop hoping somuch, gets me what I want, what can I say, I'm spoiled.

The other day I was at the gym running on the treadmill and this guy came in and started running beside me. He tried to strike up a conversation with me, as I know I was just the picture of beauty in gauchos and an ill-fitting sports bra (that's what I get for being behind the trend I guess). Thank god for the marriage card huh? Only I didn't have my rings on (swelling fingers suck) at the time and for some reason single men (or not so single men, it is 2007) don't seem to believe that you're really married unless you have the rings on. Like it would matter anyways, fidelity is a four-letter word in this country. So the guy asked me if I had any tatoos, and me being the nice *cough* naive person I am says no, that I would never put something that permanent on my body. And of course, what does said 'admirer?' do but deliver the inevitable "not even your husband's name?" Ah yes, one of those questions you just want to run and hide from since no matter how you answer it, it's going to come out sounding wishy-washy. So what do I do? I do my best wishy-washy impression since evidently I'm not good at lying. So I said no, not even my husband's name. What an idiot I am. That ultimately opens the door to him thinking "sweet, she has marital problems", when all I want to do is scream "I have a happy marriage!", hit the safety stop button on his treadmill and send him flying into the wall whilst I run and hide in the locker room. But, alas, I have 10 minutes left in my workout and I put the headphones back on and turn the volume up as high as it will go. Sorry ears, but it's the sacrifice you must endure until I can get home and squeeze the white gold back on to the sausage fingers. Needless to say, yesterday at the gym the same thing happened, he conveniently showed up on the same treadmill at the same time. Only this time I was almost done with my run and I bolted shortly after. Quite cowardly, but I hate being hit on. Makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong, even if I haven't said a word or smiled.

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