beulahbondo's Diaryland Diary
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A bushel and a pec
I promised yesterday that I'd try to stay vertical, and I did: I made my annual trip to a gym. I have a free trial week at a swanky health club, and I packed up my not-very-athletic wear and tried to find things to do there. Maybe if they had swingsets and miniature golf and trampolines I'd be more inclined to make a habit of working out. I took a Pilates class, which I enjoyed beause the teacher spoke with insane rapidity yet she only said the same few things over and over: "Now you guys show me the little pelvic tilt" and "keep your belly button in" but in this nice clickety-clackety Spanish accent. I walked on some sort of new-fangled stairmaster-type device for a while, took a shvitz and a shower, and called it a day. All before the sleek, intimidating professional-class women came in after work.
I think that's what really intimidates me: being around naked women who are all better groomed than me, and who know about things like blow-dryers and thong underwear and have these little zippered cases for all their accessories. One time I went to an aerobics class in a cotton slip over a pair of leggings -- it seemed right when I got dressed at home.
So it's a nice place. Not very muscle-headed. People read journal articles like "Patriarchy and Oppression" as they pedal--no lie.
But the angry lesbian who lives downstairs from me works at the desk in the evening. I saw her as I was leaving. This would bring a whole new shade of awkwardness to our relationship, which consists of passing each other in the hall once in a while and her not looking at me. When I had an active sex life she used to pound on the ceiling and call me on the phone (and hang up when I answered, of course). Once she even complained to the building super, who then had to complain to me in his Joe Pesci about-to-have-a-stroke voice. "Aw, Beulah, this is really embarassing. But the lovemakin's getting a little loud. Aw, Beulah, is the whole building going nuts or what?" She and her girlfriend used to have very regular, very loud sex themselves, but for the past year or so it's been quiet except for their squeals of delight when they come home and see their dog.
Well, that was a huge tangent about my neighbor when the point is that I need encouragement about my new gym lifestyle. What do you people do there at the gym that keeps you coming back? Donna Puma loves the boot camp classes at her gym. What else? Should I go nude, as Kitty suggests for all-around anti-SAD therapy? Please advise!
Also, let's all sign up for Swappingtons.com, the new Diaryland spinoff. You list books, DVDs, or CDs that you want to swap. Maybe we can convince Andrew to include artwork and clothes too! When you sign up, tell them Beulah sent you, and I get a free point. Help me get that copy of "Driving Under the Affluence"!
10:51 a.m. - 2003-01-17
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