Don't Worry About Me

Last night I was at the gym (I request that you focus on the immense willpower and self-confidence it took to drag myself to the gym at 8pm on a Saturday night rather than the more obvious fact that I was at the gym alone on a Saturday night. Thank you (see ? I'm implementing my last posing into my daily life and blogging practices).). Like a lot of gyms, all of the machines are set-up in a "cardio theatre," meaning that there are 10 televisions on the wall facing the multitude of cardio machines. I hopped on and had my ipod tuned to work-out music in one ear to keep my pace up and the earpiece connecting to the tvs on the other ear. There's not much of interest on tv on a Saturday night, so I turned to the end of I am Sam, that movie starring Sean Penn and an adorable Dakota Fanning. Next thing you know I am fighting back tears and it hits me: I am sweating away on an elliptical machine and crying over the end of the movie in a gym on a Saturday night. And when I get done with this I am going home to my kittens and knitting.

Greg, meanwhile, was having a whale of a time in Fairbanks hanging out with all of our (my) friends from college who were in town for the UAF basketball alumni game. They shut down the bars.

Also, I would really like to be friends with my downstairs neighbor and I botched my first genuine opportunity because I was distracted and speaking like a ditz when she knocked on my door. I made brownies and, upon realizing that I should not have a whole batch of brownies in the house for fear of my eating them all, I left some outside of her door (she, of course, was out). Trying to make new friends really feels like a dating. In fact, I am way more anxious about it than I ever was with boys. I almost feel like there is more at stake.