A Messy Mess

I just looked around my bedroom and realized that it was a complete and total wreck. My bed is unmade, piled with my backpack, three old newspapers, a shoebox filled with belts and scarves, my bike helmet, another shoebox with gloves and hats, two purses, my portable CD player, a comb, and an empty Aquafina bottle. My desk has papers strewn all over it, three (3!) empty glasses once used for water, a deodrant stick, another empty Aquafina bottle, two necklaces, a hairbrush, face lotion, and sunglasses. On my chair is three coats I have used in the last four days (only in Minnesota - I must have the big, puffy winter coat and a nice looking springy coat). And that's not even getting to the floor. As I look, I have a makeup mirror, an umbrella, another shoebox full of gloves and scarves, books for my part-time job, two pairs of pants, a towel, a shirt, and a pair of shoes.

I'm a slob.

I can see how people just get overwhelmed with clutter. Right now, I am thinking that just taking care of the THREE water glasses and the empty Aquafina bottles, which require me to go downstairs, is just too much work. But then I tell myself that if I take 15 minutes and clean up the clutter, my bed will be made and I will be so happy. Even if I do have to go downstairs.

So I shall clean up. But I want you all to know that I am a complete and total slob.

UPDATE: The decluttering took longer than expected. First, I went downstairs to hide the evidence of my THREE water glasses, but someone had run the dishwasher and the dishes were clean, but not put away. So I had to empty the dishwasher. Meanwhile, the roommate who had started the dishwasher told me that she would empty it and I had to admit to my sins of messiness. Then it just took longer because I have a lot of mittens and gloves and stuff that needed to be put away because it's nice out (at last) and I need to put away my winter stuff. That's all.

I'm a slob.

Notes From the Gym

I know that this blog has been very whiny lately. I'm sorry. But I'm going to continue the trend and rant some more. But all of these rants are gym related, so they have a common theme, at least, unlike previous posts.

1) Will you give me at least one television in the room that isn't tuned to ESPN? I know, I know - we're there working out so it MIGHT SEEM like we're interested in sports but, ummm, some of us would rather have CNN on. Or C-SPAN. Or even Fox News. Or, better yet, turn on the NBC soaps!! At first, I thought that you guys only had ESPN because that's all I saw. Then, one momentous day during the Olympics, I realized we were watching curling on NBC!! You do have other channels, but you FORCE me to watch ESPN on every television. I am not saying we should exclude ESPN altogether, but if there are five televisions in the room, why can' t the uninterested sports people get a different channel?

2) I purchased some new yoga pants from Old Navy. They are quite comfortable and fun to work out in. I was excited to go to the gym today just so I could wear my new pants. Yay!

3) There are signs that say, "please put the weights back on racks when you are finished." Okay, great. But why doesn't anyone rack the weights for the calf raise machine. Everytime I want to use the machine, I have to remove 400 pounds of weight before I can get started with my 45 pounds. I know it's probably wrong that all I can handle is 45 pounds, but give me a break. Please don't forget to rack your weights.

4) To the girl with unshaven legs and armpits who works out at the same time I do on Fridays: you are hot.

5) I bruise quite easily. Even the slightest amount of pressure, for a period longer than a millisecond will cause blood to pool in my skin. Often, I wake up in the morning, hop in the shower, and realize that I have a new bruise somewhere on my body. It's usually my legs, but sometimes it's my arms or torso. Since I wear pants at the gym (we can discuss my unhealthy body image later, but I have fat, fat legs), the bruises are usually noticed only by myself and, occasionally, by Biker Boy. But right now I have a scary looking bruise on my left arm. I noticed it on Friday morning as I was working out and when I looked down at it, I was somewhat stunned by its size and, ummm, darkness (the origin of the bruise is mysterious). It is visible to all when I am at the gym wearing my BOWLING GREEN HOCKEY tshirt (go BG!!).

Today, some nice young man came up to me as I was doing my dumbbell bench presses (look, I know a gym-related term) and told me that my form was slightly off and corrected it. Fine. I thanked him for pointing it out, adjusted my form, and kept at it. He continued watching me. After my bench press, skullcrushers, and tricep pushups, I went to get some weights to do another exercise and he was still watching me. I was a bit creeped out. I (I think politely, but maybe it was more timid than anything else) asked him what he was doing. He said he thought someone was abusing me because of the bruise on my arm. I stared, openmouthed, and laughed. Thanks for your concern, nice young man, but I think I beat myself in my sleep. No worries.

Okay, that's it. Notes from the gym.

NGS Letters

Dear Miami Dolphin Fans,
I'm sorry you are now the ones who must pay millions of dollars per missed pass by the one and only Dante Culpepper.
Love,


Dear Ghetto Grocery Store,
I have a number of things to say to you. First of all, if you have a sign up that says "Bunch Spinach $0.99, please make sure that you have spinach in stock. I, for one, thought that I suddenly didn't know what spinach was since in the space where spinach normally is was taken up by bibb lettuce, a completely different plant altogether. Second of all, when it is 4:30-5:00 on a Friday afternoon, have all of your checkout lanes open. I read nearly the entirety of this week's Star.
Thanks!


Dear Ira Glass,
You are not very attractive and you should wear t-shirts under your button up shirts. I will continue to listen to your radio show, though.
Thanks!


Dear Random Guy in Court,
You were charged with felony terroristic threats and gross misdemeanor domestic violence. I understand that you might not have nice dress clothes like the ones that hang in my boyfriend's closet, but I think you should have considered a different t-shirt than the one you were wearing - the one that had a picture of Mike Tyson on it!! Mike Tyson!! Of all people. Let's discuss. The man beat people FOR A LIVING and was accused of sexual assault and domestic violence. I think we can all say Robin Givens is better off without the man. But, you, YOU, Random Guy in Court, show your SUPPORT to this man by wearing a shirt with his likeness on it TO a COURT appearance where you are being charged with DOMESTIC VIOLENCE. Next time, maybe you should choose a different t-shirt, or, hey, how about this? Wear a shirt with buttons and no pictures.
Thanks!

Orange Streaks, Snowballs, and Trains

It has snowed rather heavily here in the last week. One day, after it snowed eight inches the night before, I was inside, relaxing with a nice salad of romaine, spinach leaves, and tomatoes after a vigorous workout of shoveling the sidewalk and convincing my rear-wheel drive, full-size pickup that it should MOVE and not just spin its tires, when the doorbell rang. I looked outside and see the big brown truck that lets me know that the UPS guy has just rung the doorbell. I was super excited, thinking (of course) that there was a secret package headed my way. I went out to the front porch, saw that the guy in brown had left TWO boxes in the porch, and just as I was bending down to see who the packages were for, I saw an orange streak out of the corner of my eye. Then I heard the big brown door that separates the porch from the rest of the house slam shut. That’s right. The orange kitty had accidentally locked us out on the front porch. But it was cold and I was wearing a t-shirt and slippers. My roommate was in the basement, but she couldn’t hear the doorbell and there I was, stuck with an angry kitty on the porch (it almost broke my heart to hear the little meow as he looked at the door begging me to let him in, but I also almost killed him because it was HIS fault). Eventually I was able to pound on the backdoor enough to get her attention (walking back and forth IN MY SLIPPERS from the front porch to the back door), but we had been on the front porch for twenty minutes. Biker Boy and I got up early this morning so that we could build a snowperson. Unfortunately, the snow was too powdery and we ended up throwing snowballs at each other (snowballs that disintegrated as they flew through the air), making snow angels, and, very maturely, throwing each other into snowbanks. It was great fun. I took the train home a bit later than I normally do tonight. It was a little before midnight. And some very drunk woman threw up on the train. I was repulsed. Our trains are nice. They’re new. But if you throw up on them, they won’t stay new. And it’s gross. I wanted to lock her on the front porch and throw snowballs at her.

OJ, Kobe, Kirby

The use of the terms "domestic violence," "family violence," "spouse abuse," and "woman abuse" is problematic. Each term is limited. Relationship violence isn't limited to those who live together, as implied by domestic violence and family violence. Women who are not married are sometimes abused, so spouse abuse leaves them out. The term woman abuse (or the more commonly used wife beating) focus on the woman, the victim, completely ignoring the man, who, it really needs to be acknowledged, are the problem. The words we use are important. Moosey Fate doesn't want to be called a bride, for reasons that she has elaborated quite clearly. The fight about pro-life/pro-choice/anti-murder/pro-abortion terms is controversial and neverending. I had a friend who decided, as she entered ninth grade, that "Becky" was not a good label for her and that she would be known as Rebecca from that point on. In the course of a week, I heard stories about how "Kobe" has a new line of Nike shoes that has just been released. I heard how "OJ" was interested in new endorsement deals and is hoping that Bryant's new success on and off the basketball court will help him. And, to be honest, the more upsetting, was the story of "Kirby," "The Puck," and his recent death. I'm sorry the man died. I hoped it was painless and I feel for his family. But let's discuss the news coverage of "Kirby." He was a great baseball player. He was the face of the Twins. He was a lover of the game. People are very sad he died. He was so young. Occasionally there would be a comment to the effect that Kirby has some demons in his life after he left baseball, but people really hoped he would be remembered as a great baseball player. Some demons? Puckett's ex-wife, Tonya, told police that he threatened to kill her during a telephone conversation. Over the years, Puckett had also tried to strangle her with an electrical cord, locked her in the basement and used a power saw (a power saw!) to cut through a door after she had locked herself in a room. Once, she said, he even put a cocked gun to her head while she was holding their young daughter (thanks to Sports Illustrated). He also had a history of sexual harassment, and, in 2002, was charged with criminal sexual conduct (granted, he was not convicted). Yeah, I imagine the victims of "those demons" of "Kirby's" will be glad to hear that they should be forgotten so that the man who beat,harassedd, and raped them could be remembered as a great baseball player. And, as I am living in Minnesota, I was inundatedd with stories about this man. And the most interesting phenomena was the use of Kirby Puckett's first name in all these stories. This was particularly rampant in radio news stories. Kirby was a hero. My memories of baseball start with Kirby. Kirby was such a happy player. Kirby was the Twins. Kirby this. Kirby that. We've given him power. Just like we have given OJ Simpson and Kobe Bryant power. To hurt women. To hurt the communities in which these woman live. By using his first name, we are acting like Puckett is our FRIEND, a pal, a guy who lives down the street, when really he is nothing more than a man who is guilty of ripping apart the seams of our lives by engaging in acts of violence that are morally and legally wrong. We tell toddlers to "use their words." I implore people to do more than "use words," but to stop and think about words before they use them. Take the power of the English language and harness it for good.

Too Tired To Try

Today I feel like a whiny toddler. I just don't want to do it. What is it? Anything. I don't want to get out of bed. I don't want to make breaksfast. I don't want to go to the gym. I don't want to read that article. I don't want to think about that question.

The gym part is what I need to get over right now. I haven't been to the gym in three days and if I don't go today, I will never go again. So I'm going to go to the gym. Even though I don't want to do it.

Running Wild in the Streets

Wednesday night, we went to IKEA. I had a list of two items that needed to be purchased while there. Unfortunately, you don't just go to IKEA and buy two things. You consider the twenty-five cent alarm clock, because it is ONLY twenty-five cents. No, of course I don't NEED it, but it's ONLY twenty-five cents.

Biker Boy said that he was not going to buy anything. This lasted until the PILLOWS. Yay!! I'm convinced that his old pillow had been his for YEARS. So we went through and pushed on all the pillows. I could see the panic set in as Biker Boy became confused by the oh so many choices he had. Extra high, high, or low. What would you do with an extra high pillow? You'd kill your neck? Does he want a synthetic pillow or a down pillow? Standard or queen?

Eventually we picked a pillow and once the decision was made that BB was going to spend money, our cart filled up quickly.

I purchased one bookcase (his name is Billy), one office chair (his name is Stefano), and a frame (not a cool name to be made fun of).

Yesterday, I was downtown and I got lost in the skyways. Sometimes I get turned around. I don't have the iron in my nose. I don't instinctively know what direction north is. And I passed by Williams Sonoma. And then I stopped, turned around, and went into the store. To buy a SALAD SPINNER. With a BRAKE. I love my new salad spinner. It makes me happy. No more soggy lettuce!!!

And now I can't spend money on anything. Ever again. Because consumerism has gone RAMPANT in the NGS household.