The Chronicles Of Jessica

Okay, my week could be worse.

Ugh - January. Is there any other month that saps the joy from living the way January seems to? My face is flaky, I'm depressed, my mucous membranes are dried up worse than Peter Scolari's career prospects. January just blows. Nothing to look forward to, no holidays coming up, unless you count Martin Luther King day and I don't think you really can. Martin Luther King was an amazing and inspirational man and we paid him back by giving him, like, the crappiest holiday. We don't even celebrate his birthday on the actual day, we do it in a Monday so that we can have a long weekend because that's more convenient for us. Pffft. We don't give gifts, we don't cook special meats, we don't even get drunk and dye the rivers a different color. Have you ever heard somebody say, "Man I had the best time at that MLK party last Monday!!!!" No. No you have not. The best we could do for Martin Luther King was to shut down the post office and the dmv. Feh.

But the worst part are all the stupid weight-loss resolution things you see this time of year. New you in 2009! Twelve New Habits For Success! New Years Discount at Jenny/Nutri/Craig/Watchers/LA/Weight/System!!!! Blah blah blah. What about those of us who have accepted our bodies and don't feel like we need to be told to lose weight, or to feel like we're supposed to feel like we should lose weight, or whatever. (That didn't make much sense I realize but I'm in a bad mood so I'm plowing ahead.) Then you get all these people who are new at the gym and are gumming up the works because they're new, and it's a new them and new year, and by God they are going to get their monies worth (which is hard to do at my gym because it is frankly hella-expensive. They should give out truffles and serve smoothies in Faberge eggs for what I'm paying.)

So then you have all these people who have never been to the gym, or haven't been in forever, and they don't know the protocols and they bother me. Like today after Spinning (hate), there was this woman in the locker room who had like three towels which she was using to shield every possible part of her body as she changed her clothes. She put one around her waist to change her pants and then she put one around her torso to change her top, jealously guarding every inch of her flesh from the prying eyes of the rest of us. Does she think we're all a bunch of sex-crazed maniacs who'll start french-kissing her the second she shows her underwear? It's weird! Stop being weird. Everyone changes in the locker room; it's a LOCKER ROOM. No one is looking at you! Except I was in this instance because I thought all this secrecy and modesty meant maybe she had like something freakily wrong with her like a vestigial tail or a twin growing out of her thigh. Then the bottom half towel fell while she had her shirt over her head, and she tried to grip it with her knees but I still saw pretty much everything and it all looked pretty normal, so. There went that theory. If I see her again I'm going to ask her if she has to use clamps to get her nipples to stay that perky and see if can get her to pass out.