Like all best friends in a circle of four, my best friends and I assigned a character of Sex and The City to each other. Only one of us disagreed, but the rest of us took a liking to and accepted our series persona. You'd have to know me intimately to believe that I'm most like Charlotte. Yes, like her I'm prudish, I (still) believe in love, and I'm the emotional one in the bunch. There was an episode when Samantha discovered that one of her lovers was cheating on her. This important fact was revealed while she and the rest of the girls were relaxing in a sauna. Seems Samantha's lover had a fetish for shaving his initials in a lady's most intimate areas, and she wasn't the only person baring his monogram. Practice makes perfect, huh? The entire scene was too much for Charlotte. Firstly, she wasn't up for seeing and discussing Samantha's hairdownthere. Secondly, she didn't get how everyone so freely disrobed and revealed themselves to the whole (sauna) world. Here, is where we're A LOT alike.
When my body was at it's t-t-tightest, I was always the most reserved of the bunch. You know the slumber party scene where the girls are sitting around in their Chrissy Snow jammies, eating junk food, and swapping boy stories? I was there always, yes. Everyone else would be whipping stuff off left and right. Oh me, I'd quietly retreat to the bathroom and get undressed and dressed. There were rare occasions when I'd have to disrobe in front of others, like freaking bridesmaid fittings, small hotel rooms, etc. But when not forced, I'd do my thang on the solo tip.
Patting myself on the back for being the smallest I've been in like 7 years, I've been going to the gym and not eating! Well, I eat but really in moderation with the bullshyt intake being very low. I love being this size and now I'm just trying to tone the hell up. A few weeks ago, I went to my gym, at work. If you notice, most times when you enter the locker room, it's hardly ever a direct path. You normally turn at least once or twice before you are actually in the locker room. I'm assuming this universal design is to protect the privacy of the members.
On this particular day, I went to the gym with my co-worker. I went straight to the handicap stall (save your judgments) and she, to the changing area. As soon as I rounded the corner, I encountered a naked woman, standing in the mirror blow drying her hair. (BTW, standing in the mirror is a funny phrase) I hated everything and was embarrassed. Why? Our eyes never met, but I knew EXACTLY who she was...my CO-WORKER!!!!!!!!!!!! Ugh. I wanted to leave. I was willing to put my weight loss goals aside and just say "ef it." Hoping like hell it was her long lost twin, I peeped through the cracks trying to get a better glimpse of her face. I still wasn't quite sure, until another co-worker came out of nowhere and started discussing some new work related regulation that had just passed. Talk about a meeting in the ladies room. I had already changed and absolutely refused to come out until she left. The dressed co-worker left and the nude one stayed. Hell, her hair seemed dry to me. "Leave already," I thought. I fiddled around some more - shifting shyt in my bag; untying and tying my shoes; peeping and ducking. Finally, after a few more finger rakes through her hair, she left. In a millisecond, I exhaled and collapsed my forehead on the bathroom door. I was mentally exhausted! Realizing that fiasco had taken a chunk out of my workout, I grabbed my bag and left. When I got to the treadmill section, where my work-out buddy was waiting, she looked at me like "What took so long?" I made a face saying, "Girl you don't even want to know." Without seeming psycho, how could I tell her I was stalled in the stall?
When my body was at it's t-t-tightest, I was always the most reserved of the bunch. You know the slumber party scene where the girls are sitting around in their Chrissy Snow jammies, eating junk food, and swapping boy stories? I was there always, yes. Everyone else would be whipping stuff off left and right. Oh me, I'd quietly retreat to the bathroom and get undressed and dressed. There were rare occasions when I'd have to disrobe in front of others, like freaking bridesmaid fittings, small hotel rooms, etc. But when not forced, I'd do my thang on the solo tip.
Patting myself on the back for being the smallest I've been in like 7 years, I've been going to the gym and not eating! Well, I eat but really in moderation with the bullshyt intake being very low. I love being this size and now I'm just trying to tone the hell up. A few weeks ago, I went to my gym, at work. If you notice, most times when you enter the locker room, it's hardly ever a direct path. You normally turn at least once or twice before you are actually in the locker room. I'm assuming this universal design is to protect the privacy of the members.
On this particular day, I went to the gym with my co-worker. I went straight to the handicap stall (save your judgments) and she, to the changing area. As soon as I rounded the corner, I encountered a naked woman, standing in the mirror blow drying her hair. (BTW, standing in the mirror is a funny phrase) I hated everything and was embarrassed. Why? Our eyes never met, but I knew EXACTLY who she was...my CO-WORKER!!!!!!!!!!!! Ugh. I wanted to leave. I was willing to put my weight loss goals aside and just say "ef it." Hoping like hell it was her long lost twin, I peeped through the cracks trying to get a better glimpse of her face. I still wasn't quite sure, until another co-worker came out of nowhere and started discussing some new work related regulation that had just passed. Talk about a meeting in the ladies room. I had already changed and absolutely refused to come out until she left. The dressed co-worker left and the nude one stayed. Hell, her hair seemed dry to me. "Leave already," I thought. I fiddled around some more - shifting shyt in my bag; untying and tying my shoes; peeping and ducking. Finally, after a few more finger rakes through her hair, she left. In a millisecond, I exhaled and collapsed my forehead on the bathroom door. I was mentally exhausted! Realizing that fiasco had taken a chunk out of my workout, I grabbed my bag and left. When I got to the treadmill section, where my work-out buddy was waiting, she looked at me like "What took so long?" I made a face saying, "Girl you don't even want to know." Without seeming psycho, how could I tell her I was stalled in the stall?
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