Public Service Announcement

Because I'm helpful and all, I just want to let you know that if you live in Tennessee? And your tag looks like this:

It's expired. Like BAD expired. Like not even within the realm of the cop might let you off with a warning expired.

Okay? Because I saw like five people this morning with tags like this. This one guy? Who totally cut me off and then cut off like five other people because he was about six hundred years old and should have had his drivers license taken away a long, long time ago? He had a tag that looked like this and it expired in May of 2006. I was able to easily see it, what with him cutting me so short I could see the hairs in the moles on the back of his neck.

Anyway. If you tag looks like this, get thee to the DMV. Post haste!

Also, if it really says, "THATCHICK" can you send it to me? That would rock.

Let's get physical!

I have VH1 Classics on my cable now and I totally watched Pop-up Video the other day and it was the one with Sandy from Grease singing "Let's get Physical". And those guys were kind of fugly. But anyway. The song is stuck in my head.

I'm debating on when I should make my grand re-entrance to the gym.

On the one hand, the gym is good. I can go there and they have more equipment than I do at home. For example, they have a pool whereas I have a standard size bathtub and I just can't swim in that. Also, I'm paying for the gym and it makes me very twitchy to pay for something and not use it.

On the other hand, the gym sucks. Hard.

I joined a gym in 2005. It was close to my house, a mere few minutes away. It was a women's only gym.The "trainers" were more like normal people. My trainer was ever so slightly chubby, which made me happy in a kind of perverse way. They would weigh and measure me on a scheduled basis and then ring a big happy bell if I lost weight. Everyone would stop what they were doing and cheer for me really loudly. While I was working out, all the employees would walk around and say hello to me and ask how I was, ask how the kids are, and so on. We became "friends", in a way.

One day in early 2006, I went to the gym to find the door locked. There was a large sign on the door that said the gym was closed and we could all go to one of the two other locations.

Neither of the other locations were close to my house. And since about 200 or so members got shuffled they became really, really crowded.

But I made due. I had a class two days a week on that side of town so I would go to the gym before and after class. I got to know the people there and the regulars. It became good again. I could work it in.

Then? You guessed it. They closed both of those locations too.

So, I got a letter saying, "Guess what! Cause we suck and all, we've decided to automatically make you a member of this OTHER gym! It's a big gym! It has a pool! You'll totally love it!"

Great right?

Except, yeah. Not so much.

It's not close to my house. It's not FAR from my house, so to speak, but it's not close. Plus, it's on a really busy highway. I already drive with a healthy fear for my life and that location just scares the bejesus out of me.

Moreover, there are men there.

Okay, I love men. I live with one man and one boy who will become a man and they rock. My office mate is a man and he rocks. I have no problem with men in general, whatsoever.

Except? When they get really stinky and sweaty and sit on the exercise bike with their arms raised in the air like they are freaking Rocky Balboa and everyone in the treadmills behind them has to SMELL THEM. (And really...why? WHY do you do that? Why? What purpose does it serve to force everyone to smell your stinky pits?)

Except also? When men get really territorial about "their" machine? To wit, once at 5:30am I was going to get on the treadmill and this man, who was probably less than thirty years old, YELLED AT ME and told me "DIDN'T I KNOW ANYTHING!?!!? THAT IS HIS TREADMILL!"

Oddly, his name wasn't on it. Even more oddly? There were 8 other free treadmills.

But whatever. I gave him a particularly withering look and got on another one. Five thirty in the morning is early. I can't fight anyone then.

Also? This one time I tried to hold the door open for an old man and he snapped at me. Because I was trying to be nice and his hands were full. The door would have literally hit him in the face, and maybe that wouldn't have been a bad thing. Perhaps it would have knocked some sense into him.

There are no trainers there ringing bells for me. I've never even seen any bells.

I know I shouldn't be such a freaking child and care about things like that, but it matters. Losing weight is hard. Getting up early to exercise is hard. Exercising at any time on any kind of regular schedule is hard.

It should be celebrated.

Unless your pits stink and you think you are Rocky. In that case, celebrate at home.

I have twins. Ask me dumb questions.

Today I was talking to my little sister (I know. I know. She's 29. Hardly little. But still, she's little to me) and she said, "When people find out I'm having twins, it's like, they LOSE their MINDS!"

Oh my frog. No kidding!

When I was pregnant no one could really tell I was pregnant. I wore my regular jeans until 2 weeks before I gave birth. Plus, I spent a lot of time walking up and down the hall of my house and very little time out in public or whatever, so really a lot of people didn't know I was pregnant.

Anyway, once I gave birth it was like every freak came out of the woodwork and wanted to a) talk to me, b) be my best friend forever and c) hold my baby.


I found I really enjoy messing with people.

My babies were so small that they would both fit into one infant car seat. Of course I wouldn't let them ride in the car like that, but if I had to go to the store, I would take one infant out of one seat and place them next to the one in the other seat. Then I only had to carry one. It made my life a lot easier. If I had to run into a store, I would toss a blanket over them so they could sleep and run in and get my milk or whatever.

I would set the carrier in my buggy and try not to talk to anyone, but it didn't stop anyone from talking to me. Once an elderly lady really really really REALLY wanted to engage me in conversation because she really wanted to get a look at my baby. In the nicest way possible I said, "Shhh...baby's sleeping." She stuck her head down INTO THE CART. I restrained myself from knocking her out. I think there is a law against bitch slapping senior citizens. Or something. Suddenly two little feet popped out of the blanket. She was beside herself and started tickling
the feet. And then, a third foot popped out. Grandma almost passed out. I smiled at her. She said, "Oh my!" and practically ran to the produce aisle.

It was a great day.

I also found that people feel it is well within their right to ask you insane and wildly inappropriate questions. Among the best:

1) Are they identical?

No. He has a penis. She has a vagina. Therefore they are not identical.

2) Is he black? Do they have the same father?

Twins, people. TWINS. Maybe you can't tell they are twins NOW that they are almost nine. But really, when you are lugging about two infants? They pretty much have to be your very own babies or else you have a death wish.

A lady in Wal-Mart once insisted to me that she "seen on the Dateline NBC that twins can have two different fathers!" and I said, "Well mine don't lady!"

Good Lord.

Okay and Boy Child has a nice tan. For the love of God.

3) Is one of them evil?

No, they both are. Thanks for asking!

4) Are you breast feeding? Why not?

Explain to me please, how my breasts are any of your business? A twenty-year old guy at the Health Department asked me this and was really interested in my answer. Go ahead. Throw up in your mouth a little. I know I did.

5) Do you love one of them more than another?

Well of course! Doesn't every mother have one kid that they love more than the others? I mean, seriously, I was planning on feeding Girl Child to the wolves when she gets to be ten.

GOOD LORD PEOPLE. GOOD. LORD.

6) Can I hold one?

Why certainly, individual who looks like they haven't washed their hands in fifteen years and might possibly be a mass murderer! Please let me hand you the most prized possession I have on this earth! That would certainly be a fantastic idea. While I'm at it, why don't I give you my credit cards and social security number for safekeeping?

7) Was it hard?

Nah. I look like this on purpose.