murphyormel

wacky reflections from a nutcracker wannabe

Category: Karma

lunkheads. we see you.

…from the lens of a gym girl.  And magnified.

we wear headphones for a reason.  And we laugh when we get in our car.  Just sayin’.

  • The charts the trainers give you are for recording reps/machines/body focus- not phone numbers, though GoPro and Match.com might want to consider a partnered after-market attachment.
  • “Disgrosting™” to quote my daughter.  Clean up your own pool of wetness post machine.  The gym staff can’t make enough cash to cover you.
  • There is no track at my gym, boys.  Stop walking laps, winking and waving to “cool down” around the cardio area. Walk your damn selves outside!
  • Tanning inside a gym environment?  Not my thing, but lol, boys- 1. It doesn’t count for strength training, 2. Completely counter-intuitive.  Hand over cash and ask for cancer?  You are in a health club!
  • The pool is for swimming laps, not flat back free-floating to see if your belly sticks up higher than your head.  It does.
  • Please do not wear your compression stockings on the treadmill next to me.
  • And for goodness sakes, hold on to the side rails when you check your iPhone. 1. You can’t hit the emergency button when you are flying off backwards. 2. A phone in a gym? You go there to enjoy a break from the outside world- not bring it in!
  • Full out hair and makeup at 5:30pm on a Monday at the gym says, “I want a date, I’m not really here to work my abs.”
  • Gym architects, placing the adductor and abductor machines face on to the loft of lunkheads above and between sets?  You are either a brilliant macho lunkhead yourself, or you failed to ask your mom how that might be offensive to women. On the upside, if a gal chooses that machine on a busy, weekday night, you might have a chance for a post-workout cocktail.
  • Seriously fellas, the sleeveless, cutout 80s t-shirts?  If you were that ripped, you wouldn’t need to show so much skin.  Mystery, men, mystery!
  • I am confident there are mirrors in both the locker rooms and free weight areas. Your hair should not look perfect, and your shorts are yes, too short.  At some age, there really should be an above knee requirement, not unlike work or school dress codes.  Again, “disgrosting”.
  • ‘Buy ’em or grow ’em- they are still your own.™’- my personal thoughts on breast augmentation, but please girlie, be careful of the tip-over factor when stretching pre-workout.
  • And men, when you stare at her purchase, at least pretend to be lifting something other than your package.  The “rearrangement” can wait.  (NOTE: iPhones are present as listed above)
  • I do absolutely adore the completely confident man or woman rockin’ with their earphones to their own beat, as if they own the place.  You do always make me smile.  Thank you.  Own it!

I tease from my lens as a long-time gym girl, but these are all realities.  So too is the newbie gym rat’s New Year’s resolution that starts to stray about now (mid-March); thus, sending all of us regulars to the gym on a 70s weekend day like today.  We are happy you have joined our squad of silliness. Stick with it- if even just a small percent of you keeps coming back, we are a healthier whole. Plus, the merchandise is always a bargain when you join.

But karma plays the game, as just today as I was giggling about how many funny things I try not to see as a gym girl (so of course I can write about them), and I realize I am just now old enough to need my reading glasses for my locker numbers. 🙂

And yes, I AM the girl who sprained her ankle on the stairs AFTER a workout, AND who injured my other foot after dropping a motorcycle, only to have a gym staffer step on it while I was wearing a big damn BOOT.

lunkheads, go do your thing.  Just know I am not the only one laughing on the drive home.

Flex and smile,

Mel

Mel & Murphy meet again…

so, this is my life.  always full of moments that remind me of two things:

1.  I am human.

2.  God has humor.

–  The very same evening I completed my online Department of Homeland Security Courses in prep for live coursework the following day, a friend and I were robbed in downtown STL after a nice meal.  The guy who jumped our table however, tripped on a chair and dropped my purse, so besides my friend’s sunglasses, we were lucky.  And darn it, if the restaurant and manager didn’t even offer to pick up our meal or provide a free cocktail.  What does it say that I couldn’t be freaked out in light of all I’ve faced on travel misadventure and the recent “life storm”?  All I could do was laugh and be thankful we were safe.  My daughter?  She laughed out loud at the robbers poor coordination.

– Priests should be required to wear their collars to the gym.  Feels slightly awkward to see the six pack of a priest while barely making it through my own run. Enough said.

–  I always make my sweet girl eat her veggies before a post-dinner snack.  We literally negotiate the number of carrots.  What do I do when I cook the green beans, serve them to both of us and realize I cooked them on the burner that wasn’t on?

–  After a lovely Father’s day lunch at a public restaurant, I look down to realize the carpet deodorizer I used just minutes before leaving the house was all over my feet.  Cheers, dad!

–  At the nail salon today (one I love that is cheap and the ladies in there finally recognize me (and I think understand me- think Seinfeld episode), a roach passed by my station.  I chose to ignore in favor of a great manicure.  Is that a bad thing?

– Tomorrow very early in a whole house unit council meeting at the hospital, I will present the patient, Crazy Aunt Delilah and the “goooooiter” that redefines karma, to educate staffers on why the patient-journey is real for all of us….those who wear a boa, those who appear delusional, those with lipstick on their teeth and all of us in between. 🙂  Wish us luck.  (and to think, I was beat by a bat that Halloween costume contest)

My sweet girl said, “Mom, you aren’t weird.  You are limited edition.”  Gotta love the truth we walk each and every day.

Namaste’,

Mel

Grow a goiter, get a goiter.

Four years ago in an effort to win a work halloween costume contest, I created a character.  I don’t have a Crazy Aunt Delilah, but I thought something bigger than life and more creative than the standard Target purchase was a must.  I was, afterall, the quirky (or I liked to imagine) head of the Marcomm team for a medical equipment company.

I visited the local thrift shop and selected a lovely floral housecoat but jazzed up my look with hot pink lipstick (over the teeth of course), many pearls, a flowing black Hannah Montana wig and a fantastically designed goiter with those awful nude colored pantyhose no woman ever chooses unless she is over 80.  (forgive me grandma, your knee highs were darling, and we loved you for being fearless to wear them as kneehighs.  You, HS, rocked a pair!). Crazy aunt Delilah, not so much.

The New York accent was a hit and the boa got me many hugs and several bizarre looks from the uptight stiffs in the office.  Nonetheless, $100 at stake, and I wanted that prize.

I only took second.

HOWEVER, the goiter crafted by pantyhose actually became a real goiter two years later.  Karma or Murphy’s law?

I should definitely get my $100 now.

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