Who needs sleep during the week?

I honestly don't have much to say. Well that's at least how I feel when I start all of these posts, and then somehow I end up with an absurd amount of words filling up my little e-page and I'm flabberghasted at how long-winded I am. (Run-on sentences are proof of said windedness.)

I'm pretty sure I'm just going to end up writing random facts about myself, but I guess I will tell you about my Tuesday and Wednesday, since somehow I didn't update yesterday. This might be because I had to spend a lot of time checking on blogs after my brief hiatus from the e-world.

I wish I could tell you that Tuesday was glorious, but in all honesty, I have NO idea what I did on Tuesday. I don't think I went right home, but at the same time I can only remember....oh that's right, I went to the gym. The fucking gym.

Now I've spoken about my love/hate relationship with the gym before. Well I was completely wiped out from Monday night's shenanigans, but after a lot of coaxing and motivating "you can do it"'s from Mo, well...I ended up at the gym.

When I got there, total body conditioning was going on and I missed it. When I left, Zumba was going on, and I avoided it like the plague that Zumba is. I know some of you love that shit, and I probably would too if, when I was sober, I didn't have the rhythm and coordination of a big-footed middle aged white man. I cannot Zumba. I cannot latin dance. Screw Shakira, my hips lie, all the damn time. Because when you see these hips, obviously meant for baby-bearing thanks to long lines of baby bearers in my history, you will probably be tricked into thinking they can swivel in the correct direction. The correct direction being the direction I, the bearer of said hips, am willing them to go. If you though this, you would be sorely mistaken. I am always two steps behind the Zumba instructor. I can't even keep up with the middle-aged women with absolutely no figure whatsoever, somehow managing to go 1, 2, chachacha-ing all over the gym with ease.

Fuck you rhythm having people. Fuck you all. I need a damn drink if I plan on even attempting Zumba or the likes. Because when I drink, I don't care, and my body gets so loose that my hips fling all over the place and I'll be damned if that's not what Zumba is all about.

Obviously, I'm as jacked as this guy here.

Phew, now that that little rant is out of the way. I did my typical 40 minutes of cardio, because I'm a lazy piece when I get to the gym and can only manage to drag myself onto a machine to watch TV. Then I looked around for the leg press. I had a really nice burn from leg presses last week, and that showed me I was actually doing something. And although I've recently been using the phrase "these thunder thighs make it rain," lately, I would prefer if the lower half of my body did not cause any meteorological changes. I actually quite like the sun and am not so fond of rain - especially when I have somewhere to go.

So I went on the hunt for the simple leg press. I just wanted to sit and push the panel with my legs, that's all. Obviously this was too much to ask. After aimlessly walking around the gym (yes I'm one of those people), well maybe not aimlessly because I was really trying to find this damn machine, I ended up on a quad machine that I don't mind, but I still prefer the leg press. Then I did my inner and outer thighs. Um, my groin hurts today. Thanks gym. In retrospect, the leg soreness could also be from Steel Pans....which brings me to the next portion of my story.

I got home at 8pm and am excited to lay in my bed after eating a delicious salad and showering. I was texting with Steel Pans because if I don't message him every few days he thinks I've forgotten about him, and proceeds to tell me so. Anyway, I told him I wouldn't be home on Wednesday night, at which point he said that even though he had work at 6am the next morning, he was on his way.

I really hope that my family doesn't actually ever read this. I only published the link on facebook once or twice, but that was before I actually blogged regularly. The reason I say this, is the next portion of this entry (which I will italicize) will be sexually explicit enough to not really be appropriate for my mom and dad to read - although they might've heard the actual occurrence going down.

It was only 10:30pm when Steel Pans got there, and thinking that my mom - newly out of school for the summer - would be up, I decided to actually go to the door and walk him to my room. Normally I just leave the door unlocked when I know he's coming over and it allows me to be lazy, and naked when he gets there. (Actually, he's asked me to be naked already when he gets there to cut down on time - but on principle no, I'm always clothed.) It's been over a year since we've been doing this stuff, so I pretty much know how it's going to go down. However, Tuesday evening was different. He go there, we went upstairs, I got into bed and immediately clothes were off. It was probably one of the better sexual encounters I've had. It was a 20 minute quickie - which it was supposed to be - and aggressive as all hell and just brilliant. I almost popped my shoulder out of its socket, but that's fine. It took a lot to walk him back to the door afterward - but safety first. Someone's gotta lock the door, right?

I would call Tuesday night a great success. Sadly I had to be up early to go to the chiropractor on Wednesday morning. I planned on going to Dyckman Wednesday night so I packed accordingly and knew it would be a long night.

After spending a good portion of time trying to figure out the best way to get up to Dyckman, I realized there was none. I stuck around for the faculty meeting for a half an hour after work and then made my way to the Stumble. Downed two hard ciders in about 45 minutes, maybe a half hour. Chit chatted a bit with a bunch of people and then needed to leave to get up to Dyckman at 8pm. Some of my friends were going to see Jim Gaffigan in the park, but I am pretty loyal to basketball now, so I made my choice. 

It took me 4 trains and an hour and a half to get to Dyckman. 6 to the E. E to the A. A to the 1...and I still managed to get to the park with 5 minutes left in the first half of the first game of the night. The park was packed. They already closed the whole thing off. I was standing outside with Puppy, who is B's friend and is a bit younger than me but he's just adorable and he wants to be in love so badly (hence why I call him Puppy - Puppy love, you know?). I literally call him Puppy in person though, folks.

Puppy and I were standing outside, drinking free samples of frozen raspberry lemonade from McDonald's waiting for Sister to get there, or Brother to come out and get us. I was adding vodka to mine, just trying to maintain my buzz from the stumble. Hard cider makes me feel fuzzy - and I really like it.

Sister and Trace got there, B was on her way. It took an absurd amount of time to get into the park. Lots of pushing and I swear I wanted to hit this guy Mike in the face if he stepped on my foot one more time with his pompous ass. While I say that, I would totally give him the business because he makes bank playing ball overseas, likes white girls, and has the body type that I thoroughly enjoy. But I digress. So we finally get in, and there's nowhere to sit. We're supposed to have this whole section, but it was packed with leftovers from the first game. This resulted in some people who were not familiar with Puppy, Trace and I to be rude as shit. There were stupid things said about how if we didn't sit down they were going to throw things, and when I said hold on, this girl copped a heavy attitude and I had to clench my teeth not to respond. It all ended up getting to Trace, because she's not the type to be disrespected. She ended up leaving with B when B got there at half time and she was upset. It was a big mess. The whole section ended up standing the whole game, against the barricade, on the bleachers, you name it, people were there. 

Dumb shit happens when everyone's packed like sardines at a sporting event. This guy hit this big girl in the face, and she obviously flipped out and went to go snuff him and there was a momentary fight break out. Everything was shortly resolved, but still - that's what happens people.

We ended up winning the game, but it was really late when it was over. I didn't want to take the 1 train, because it's a POS train. I wanted BiL to drive me to the 4 train. We were kind of loitering outside, as per usual and B and Trace came back. Trace was still upset. B was visibly agitated. I just wanted bed.

I found out that the car BiL and Sis rented needed to be dropped off right by my job by 9am the next morning so I ended up going back with them eventually. We had to stop and pick up Niece and drop Puppy off. Then we had to go run an errand, and then we went to White Castle. It was almost 2am when we got back to the house. I showered, shoveled in my sliders and sweet potato fries and promptly passed out.

They dropped me off to work this morning and I walked the last 20 blocks, which was actually kind of pleasant.

Had another hard cider at lunch with the Mexican and Sarah. Going for a manicure after work, a going away party, and the Blockheads - and possibly Honey...because Honey is always a possibility.

I'm really sleepy, but we get out at 1pm tomorrow but are paid until 5, which is brilliant!

I wish I were in Jamaica with some of my friends though. Way too expensive though. Bummer.