Milestone One, Thanks and Other Stuff

I want to start by saying that I missed a great opportunity. I can't believe that I did not wait till Tuesday to post my friend's "MJ" titled memoir on April 20th. I almost had a moment of synchronicity. Is there such a thing as "near synchronicity"? Because, if not, I am claiming it and coining it. I mean, I might as well own it considering the many near misses that make up my life. If you are thinking "Max", so am I.

I wanted to take some time as well to thank three really special women in my life. First, thanks to Hilly, once again, for sharing her awesome story with us and being my first guest post. You are a great friend. Second, I have no words to express my gratitude to Crazy Texas Mommy for her kind plug of my blog in her own, ever so popular blog. I am very glad that we met. Even if it was in a workplace that cannot find the humor in a talking Mary doll. Third, but not last, thanks to Nicci for promoting this blog on her tweeter. I know it is because of these amazing women that I can write the next paragraph.

I have hit milestone number one. My blog has reached one hundred hits. I know this may not sound like much, but it does mean that people out there are reading this and, though not many things do, this makes me feel all special and stuff like that. Then again, one hundred posts may not seem that important because at last count the number was up to 154, but I am sure that the extra people are from the help of my wonderful friends who thought enough of my blog to promote it. Next, milestone number two, one thousand hits. I hope you all enjoy the journey to it as much as I do.

Moving on to what I really set off to write about. I went to the gym for the first time in over 2 years on Monday night. I know what you are gonna say... actually, I guess I don't. It's kind of obvious that I haven't set foot in a gym for a while. Also, last time I set foot in a gym, I never did more than ride one of the stationary bikes because I could read at the same time so I have never been much for exercise. I figured I needed to start going to the gym again if I had any chance of a)looking better, b)feeling better, and c)finding someone. As luck would have it, one of the many guys I have met online seemed to be really into working out and, since I knew he was way out of my league, I figured we could at least be gym buddies. The whole idea was great in theory and I felt excited about it. That is right until it was time to actually enter a gym.

It was 10:25pm and I was sitting in the parking lot waiting for my friend to arrive. The more I sat there, the more the gym looked like a sacred place. It seemed like a religious place, almost church-like, in the sense that people walked in because they wanted to become better people and feel better about themselves and walked out changed. The building loomed large and ominous and with every second I became more and more anxious about the step I was about to take. Was I ready? Could I really commit to taking better care of my body? Anxiety slowly crept in and soon I was pretty close to having a panic attack. This was not helped by the fact that all the people I saw walking into that gym were skinny and seemed to be popular, happy and the epitome of everything that I was not. I do admit that last part might have been my imagination getting carried away. Still, I could just picture them laughing at me and whispering to each other "Look at that Fat Guy! He doesn't stand a chance! We will always be better than him." Sitting there, shaking with nervous jitters, I looked down and noticed that the over sized shirt I was wearing, because somehow I convinced myself that a huge shirt would be good because it would make me look less fat yet ruefully realized it was worse since it made me look like a shapeless blob, had a big stain in the front. That is just what I needed. At that moment, I started hyperventilating. I wish I were kidding and making this stuff up but the foggy windows in my car didn't lie. My heart was pounding and I was breathing heavier than if I had just run a 5K. Then again, I have never ran a 5K, so I may just be exaggerating a bit. Regardless of my running history, I figured that I'd had enough exercise for one day. See how efficient I am? I was done exercising and I had not set foot inside the consecrated gym floors. Heck, I had not even moved at all!!!

I almost started my car and drove off a couple of times, but it would have been really embarrassing to have to tell my friend that I was not going to be able to make it because I had freaked out and psyched myself out just by sitting in the parking lot. So, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and started texting friends about how I was about to leave. I was hoping they would respond and convince me to stay. Unfortunately, of the one friend that I actually texted, I got no response. I did however realize that fiddling with phone did make me feel less stressed about the whole situation. So, I opened a little note-pad-like-thingy on my phone and started writing little notes so that I would remember what I wanted to talk about when I wrote this later on. And so, my nerves, though not cured, were relieved by someone any geek worth their salt has experienced in their lives: gadget relief. If you are not a geek, allow me to explain. Gadget relief is the one recourse a geek has when outside of his element. For instance, say you are at a party and you don't know anyone. More importantly, it does not seem like anyone is interested in getting to know you. The whole situation is awkward and extremely uncomfortable so, what does one do? Easy. One pulls out a gadget, usually a cell phone, and pretends to text someone or plays a game or anything that can be done with that specific gadget. Thus, you are still alone and unwanted, but it does not matter because you are not focused on the social interactions taking place around you but rather are preoccupied with whatever task you are doing with your gadget. It is the geeky equivalent of looking at your watch and pretending to wait for someone or waving at a stranger when you realize that the person you were waving at was not waving at you but at someone behind you. Now that we are all caught up, I shall resume the story. So there I sat, fidgeting with my phone and trying to keep my stomach from turning from anxiety when my phone beeps and I realize my friend has parked next to me and he is sending me a message telling me he has arrived.

Of course, I had resolved not to share with anyone what had transpired in my car because I did not want to be embarrassed. Yet, somehow that was the first thing I told my friend upon getting out of my car. I might have appeared a bit crazy, but at least I was honest. Also, I am not sure how me posting this in here counts as not telling anyone, as I had resolved not to tell anyone yet knew I was gonna post it, but go with me on this one. The actual workout was rather fun and my friend could not have been more gracious. I forgot to think about bringing a lock for a locker and he let me put my wallet, cell phone and keys in his. Granted, that was a bit courageous of my part considering I had never met the guy before, but my trust was rewarded by the end of the night when I got my stuff back. I also asked him to please take it easy as I had not worked out in a long time and he did. We only used the treadmill for walking and the elliptical machines to... elliptically-machine? Still, we have not attended the gym in the last two days which works out just fine for me as I am still sore from Monday. After all this is the price we pay for... well, whatever it is we go to the gym for.

Happy Birthday, Medea!

Today was the birthday of that special, and by "special" I intend all meanings including the good and the bad, lady who gave birth to me. I know you were all aware of that since I wrote that long post about the dilemma of what to do for her birthday. The day has passed and I have to report what happened so that you'll know that I listen to you.

My whole weekend, at least the days, revolved around her. The nights were fun. Let's talk about that first.

Friday night started with happy hour with some co-workers after work. From then on I joined some friends at another restaurant for another happy hour. The rest of the night was spent with those friends and a very opportune bottle of tequila. Good times were had by all and some very random conversations. I am not one to usually like tequila as I consider myself a vodka person. I do have a very soft spot in my heart for margaritas though. Well, after several of those, and about a liter and a half of tequila, I invited my friends to do a guest post. I figured I should tell you in advance so you won't be surprised. Especially since I just received one of them and I will be posting it soon. Anyway, it was a fun night.

Saturday night I went to see Death at a Funeral with some guy I met online. After that was over, the movie was good but the company left something to be desired, I ventured on my own to Mabel's to see a benefit drag show and hoping to meet up with some friends. Unfortunately, my friends were a no show. Fortunately, there was this cute, nerdy guy who I kind of talked to and, had I not been too much of a chicken, whose phone number I should have asked for. He is working on his dissertation to get his math PhD. That is enough for me to like him right there. I mean, what else could I possibly ask for, right? Talking to him was fun and the drag show was interesting, so despite the fact that my friends were a no show, it was a good night. (The guy's name was Max and this is a long shot but if anyone knows him you know where to find me.)

Those were my nights this weekend. My days, however, were consumed by Medea. On Saturday I was at my sister's house. She planned a cook-out to celebrate mother's birthday. I spent most of the day there and, despite wanting to leave before Medea got there, I stayed because my sister kept saying that Medea really wanted me to be there. So I stayed and the long ice was broken and me and Medea exchanged our first words in months. Then today my dad cooked liver and onions and the whole family got together again. Another all day ordeal. As you can see, especially by how much of this post was dedicated to her, Medea monopolized my weekend and I have now eaten enough cake to make my search for a soul mate near pointless. At least the family rift is closed now and we can let the healing begin.

As a last note, since this is supposed to be a short post and it is late already, I figured I would tell you all what I ended up getting her for her birthday. I thought of all your great suggestions: a card, flowers, gift card, perfume, etc. I have decided that no material thing could compare to the greatest gift I could bestow upon Medea. The one thing that I knew she wanted and that no one else could give her. I realized that the one thing that would really make her day and that she should count herself lucky to have was... the joy of being able to converse with me once again. I mean, I am awesome and I know she was dying to have me talk to her and to enjoy the wonderful conversation that no one but yours truly could provide. Great gift, huh?

P.S. Please check back soon as I will be posting the first guest post from one of my friends.
P.P.S. Shout out to the G-Man whose voyeuristic tendencies allow me one more reader if not one more commenter. I did not want to use your real name but you know who you are.