Pittsburgh Weekend

This is where I would have a really cute picture of me and my friend Lezopez, if I hadn’t lost my camera. But I promise, it was really adorable.

This weekend was AMAZING. I had such a great time, and I’m feeling way more prepared for … everything. I still have a lot to do and not enough time to do it, but … I feel good about it. And I think part of that is that I got to spend some time talking to one of my classmates about how she’s had a really difficult time in the program as well. The worst part, for me, of not doing so well, is that I pretty much operate in a school vacuum. I have no non-school related contact with any of my classmates, so it feels like I’m the only one who ever gets discouraged or falls behind, even if I know this is not true. So it was good to hear from someone else that this program is HARD, especially when you have to juggle working full time and classes.

In my spare time, I ate AMAZING food (OMG BEER CHEESE IN MA MOUTH), drank some booze, and had a great time with AWESOME friends, some of whom I met for the first time. I saw Alice in Wonderland, and it kind of kicked ass. Or at least the parts I saw did; I MAY HAVE passed out as soon as she fell down the rabbit hole and missed all the expositiony/explanatory stuff. OOPS.

I FUCKING LOVE Pittsburgh. I’m VERY GLAD I wasn’t there when it was snowing like crazy, but the weather COULD NOT have been nicer this weekend. All the college kids were out in their tank tops and shorts sunning on the lawn. Walking around that campus surrounded by students made me miss being an undergrad like crazy. Not the classes, but the parties, the boys, the tiny tank tops and/or sweatpants to class, the fewer responsibilities, the FUN. I miss the fun. I miss the time when I could still pretend to not be a grown up, when I could go to the mall or see a movie in the middle of the day on a Wednesday. It made me wish I was an on campus student with friends and a community surrounding me. It was awesome.

And then I did a stupid thing. Naturally. Actually, I did this stupid thing months ago, and bit me in the ass this weekend. Apparently, I was planning on leaving my car at the BART station for the weekend, but I ended up parking at the Oakland airport. Only to realize when printing my return boarding pass that I was flying into San Jose. AWESOME. Getting back to my car involved an adventure in public transportation (bus, light rail, bus, BART, bus, shuttle!), during which my camera disappeared. I keep hoping to magically find it somewhere in my messy car, but I think I might just break down and buy this one as a replacement (it’s RED!). But I am SO SAD about my loss, and my camera held some REALLY CUTE pictures of me and … friends and … stuff that I hadn’t had a chance to download. (Thankfully, the nekkid pictures had been deleted.) Oh well.

Wait…what class is this?

I was super pumped to get to the gym to night because of a class called “Abs and Healthy Back.” Now, I don’t know what you picture when you hear about a class called Abs and Healthy Back, but I pictured something that would be challenging on my abs yet relaxing and soothing on my ever aching back. I kind of pictured something yoga or pilates like that would involve lots of stretching and mat work and probably a giant balance ball. What I was NOT expecting, however, was a young, male, BUFF teacher who had those rubber bands around his arms to make his muscles look huge, who would lead us in an insane, brutal workout. Know your audience, dude! You’re teaching a class full of out of shape women, why not give us a chance to fucking breathe? I asked the girl next to me, who had been to this class before, if it was always like this, and she informed me that he is a substitute, but that the class is still intended to keep your heart rate up and work various muscle groups. It was not the structure of the class to which I objected, though I could have done without the 90 jumping jacks he made us do (oh I HATE jumping … anything, and if your tits were as big as mine, you would too), but I had a real issue with the PACE of the class. There’s a difference between aerobic to get get your heart rate going and KILLER.

Eventually, I asked the girl next to me what the class was called, thinking perhaps it was like that time Pam and I thought we were going to Tai-chi and ended up going to capoeria. Apparently, I attended Abs and UPPER BODY, which does explain the lack of stretching and soothing back exercises. I want to check it out again, but I don’t know if I’ll keep going regularly. My upper body isn’t really my problem area. In fact, I’m usually pretty pleased with how my upper body looks. I mean, SURE, my boobs could be more perky or my under arms a little less floppy, but that is not where I harbor my body issues. The class immediately following this one is a Powerflex class, so I might hit the treadmill first and then get to that class.

As I was leaving the gym, a girl tried to hand me a guest pass for a friend to come. “No, thanks, I … look, I don’t have any friends. HERE, I mean. I have friends. Just not here! I’VE ONLY LIVED HERE BARELY THREE MONTHS! I HAVEN’T HAD TIME TO MEET ANYONE! STOP JUDGING ME!” Why no, I’m not feeling weird and antisocial about that at all, why do you ask?

ETA: Dear Buff Hottie McHothot working out near where I was stretching tonight: Thank you.

Just BEEE Yourself

Reading over my post from yesterday, I realized that I was so worried about Having Something To Say that I don’t sound like MYSELF. I wanted to make a good first impression, never mind that most people reading this have been reading my journaling for awhile now, and I didn’t say all I wanted to say in the way I would normally have said it.

For example, I didn’t really talk about how I missed an opportunity to meet some potentially cool people and have at the very least an interesting story. I had nothing to lose by asking a Santa what was going on and tagging along for a bit. I am really going to make an effort to be open to those sorts of weird opportunities to meet people and try something new. You never know where I might meet the man I’m supposed to marry. …I don’t REALLY think I would have met him somewhere where everyone was dressed as Santa, but you know what, I made out with Homestar Runner once, so anything is possible!

And I have been given this really amazing opportunity to be who I want to be, whoever that is. I don’t have to be what people expect me to be. I can be the girl who hangs out with Santas and has adventures by herself and who has an amazing relationship with God and has sex and swears and drinks. I am in a place where no one knows my history, which is good and bad. I miss the people who know me so well we don’t have to speak, but it’s cool not to have any baggage or expectations. I just need to be true to myself and not so worried about making friends or fitting in that I lose that.