Ugh, today I was driving home from the gym and thinking about things… and realizing yet again that I’m super neurotic. This guy came into the gym and he made me laugh so hard that I had to bite my lip to stop. And I think the guy on the elliptical next to me was catching on the Michelle and I were laughing at people.

Anyways… this guy had an all blue short set on and he was seriously hairy than an ape. He had a large Hitler style, but bushier, mustache and a curly mullet. OMG he was cracking me up.

Oh and the guy next to me, when I saw him start to get on the machine I was tempted to tell him that the machine had been acting funny and shutting off so that he’d go somewhere else. I wondered how many people I would have to tell that to so that I could work out without having someone next to me. I spent too much time wondering about it and he had already started ellipticalling. I hate strangers next to me.

Then I spent like the last 20 minutes of my time on the elliptical machine obsessed with the gross sweaty pale guy. I couldn’t stop watching him because I wanted to make sure that if he left his elliptical I could rush to the weight machines before him and use all the machines I needed before he did.

I got lucky because just as I was getting off my elliptical, he was getting off of his. So, of course, I rushed over to the bicep machine before he could sweat all over it. He stood behind me waiting for me to finish while I used it. Then I went to the tricep machine, because I know he does that one next. He stood behind me again. Euuwwww… I can see we’re going to be having this war for a while, but he doesn’t realize what a sick-o he’s messing with. I have no shame, and I’m obsessively neurotic. I will win.

Ok, now for my next point. Don’t you find it odd when people you don’t know call you out by name in public? I’ll even go as far as to say it’s rude. Like all randomly saying your name and you’ve never met this person? Like I’m all walking through the grocery store and Richard (oh yeah, I’m playing his game now. I know his name too!) is like, “Hey Tom, how’s it going?”

I just want to yell out, “We are NOT friends! Don’t be all ‘Hey Tom,’ like we’re tight like that!” I took my film to get developed like seriously MONTHS ago and he got my name off the packet and now he insists on calling it out whenever he sees me. I may be totally blowing this out of proportion, but I don’t want people using my name unless I know them… at least not my first name. I could be slightly ok with them using Mr. Ellis, but not Tom.

Ok, I shouldn’t be so mean about it. I’ve actually become used to him saying it now, and I’ve even started responding back to him. But in general I find this behavior odd and I think it should stop. This has been going on now with Richard for a while now though, so we’re verging on becoming tight like that.

OH! And then I’m at the grocery store (in the meat section, ironically) and this boy was totally eye raping me. I mean like he was staring at me hardcore, like head whipped around still staring with a smile like he had a wire hanger stuck in there. I was crazy hungry and trying to find some meat and I couldn’t concentrate because he was freaking me out.

I had to walk away, and by walk I mean jog, and by jog I mean RUN. Since I couldn’t go back to the meat section, I bought pasta instead… and some cheese… and some BBQ chips. I shouldn’t shop for food after working out, #1 because I’m sweaty and stinky and #2 because I seriously walk up and down every aisle thinking to myself, “Mmm… I could eat two of those… ok four… OMG I have to eat all that. Oooh, what’s that? I should get that. TWINKIES? Why don’t I eat more Twinkies? Pizza! No, it takes too long… I could get a snack while the pizza’s cooking? No. Mmmm Macaroni!”

I bought some Fontina cheese (a block of it) and some Gruyere (another block). I love cheese. Someone actually tried to tell me last week that I don’t eat enough cheese. I don’t think it would be possible for me to eat ANY more cheese. I could eat cheese on EVERYTHING, and usually I try to do just that.

Anyways, the Gruyere was nasty. I swear I had some once and it was delish… but this one was de-GROSS. I looked at the label, after I choked down a piece, and it said “Cave Aged”. What? No wonder it tastes like damp moss covered feet. Yet I still cut it up, put it in a plastic container, and put it in the fridge… as if I am ever going to eat it again. Sadly, I know I will… I’ll be desperate and it’ll start looking good. Sad.

I’m watching King of Queens right now and Carrie is cracking me up. She’s hurt because nobody in the office likes her. So she’s trying to figure out how to win everyone over. She was talking to another co-worker and asked, “What’s that one’s name, the one with the frizzy hair and the earth shoes? I’m going to ride her frumpy ass to nice-ville.”

Cracking me up! Would you believe there are some offices in this country where they nominate people for smiley faces and they put the smiley stickers on their name plates? What kind of kindergarten crap is that? It’s so ridiculous that I’m thinking of instituting it at work, only I know that I’ll never get nominated for a smiley. They’d probably put a sticker of a bloody axe on my nameplate, or a smiley face yelling and giving stank face… cuz that’s what I do.

And in other news, I’ve decided I really want to see the Johnny Cash movie, Walk the Line, because Reese and Joaquin are adorable.

Feeling: stuffed
Hearing: Shania Twain - Shoes

Posted by Tomithey on Monday, October 10th, 2005 at 8:03 pm.