Man, my nose itches something fierce today; seriously. I can't stop scratching it; little itches ... it's.driving.me.crazy! I am having a heck of a time getting excited about going to the gym. I'm doing it, but sometimes under duress. Though last night I found some jackets and stuff that almost fit comfortably, so I have found something to work towards, and I made a new workout tape, so maybe that'll help. There is this lady that works out at my gym, and she is probably in her late 40's... actually I'm being generous. She looks that way simply because she has this incredibly thick mane of black hair. She's african american, and not an unattractive lady, but she kills me. She reminds me of some of the folks who go there to sustain some sort of physical activity to maintain healing or therapy for an injury. They walk slowly... really really slowly on the treadmills, and never break a sweat; yet are dressed to the nines in gym apparel. (did I spell that right?) Anyhoo, she makes a big production out of being friendly with the employees, who in my opinion are all just a bunch of ghetto ass hoochies...except maybe one or two of them... the rest are all bitches. Sorry, but it's true. Especially this one who looks just like Kerri Strug ... her name is even kerri. But she has really dark hair, and though she is muscular as all hell for someone so petite, girlfriend has an ass on her. Anyway, she is just unpleasant and rude, and I don't like her one bit. At least the other beeyotches ... even the ho's attempt to be nice. But anyway, I digress, so this woman... let's call her Laverne,... because, well she looks like a Laverne. She wears the workout tights under her leotard, with soccer shorts over that, leg warmers and wrist weights and the latest in reebok foot attire. But the hair, this huge fucking mane of hair... and it's long, like halfway down her back, all kind of ratted into this protective shield... she doesn't pull it back or anything. Just works out with it... stresses me out, I can't help but stare, because working out with hair in your face just seems so cumbersome. I always, ALWAYS have to pull my hair back and out of my face, you get so sweaty anyway. Well I do, this woman doesn't do enough to get sweaty. I was laying on the mat doing my situps last night, watching her doing that aerobics move where you move side to side, tapping one foot to the other, and she was also doing exxagerrated arm circles, none of which seemed too physically exhausting... I could be wrong, but she looked all relaxed except for that face she makes while breathing rather loudly... seems more like a performance than a work out. That shit just irritates me. When I described her to Lori on the phone this morning, Lori knew exactly who I was talking about; and she quit the gym some months back. So this woman has a definite presence there. She irritates the hell out of me... so much that it took me twice as long to do my situps last night as usual because I couldn't stop staring at her.
Lori thinks it's funny that I named her Laverne. We used to name the bums in our neighborhood, there was Gentleman Jim, Lieutenant Dan, (he threw rocks at Lori when she was at the store once.), Buddy Holly, and more that I can't remember... I have a list on my laptop at home. I'll have to check it out, oh yeah, there was Wilma, the neighborhood crack fiend who looked kinda like dopey from Snow White. Anyway, it all started when I went to Mexico with Tatum in Holly back in September of 1996... a whopping 7 years ago... crikey. Anyway, there was a british couple there we named them Roger and Kate and would refer to them that way, we even snuck a picture of them when we were all sitting at the pool bar. There really is no point to this entry other than a little history on my dorkiness.
I love this picture of Asa
So I took one just like it of Ben.
I must.... scratch... my .... ear... till... it... falls... off...