Cursed

I've come to the realization that I'm cursed when it comes to personal trainers.

Case in point: I sign up for this fantastic deal my gym's doing (3 60 min. sessions for $90? I'm there.) and request Tina. I've seen her around, she's got a rockin' body and she's got this "no muss, no fuss" attitude that I think will be good for me in a situation such as this.

I get a bad case of strep throat the next week and have to cancel. My bad. Tina never calls me back after I repeatedly try to reschedule.

Strike 1.

Tina finally leaves a message on my machine, we play a mean game of phone tag for a bit, then decide to do Friday, 4:30 pm. Tina cancels the day of, due to a foot injury. Says she'll call me to reschedule. She never does.

Strike 2.

I go to the manager, who says that (get this) Tina is no longer on his list of trainers.

STRIKE 3! Where'd she go?!

I switch to Mel, another woman. Sunday, 12 noon. A day later, Mel calls to say she has to (surprise!) cancel. Family in town.

Strike 4, 5, 6, 7...

What'd I tell ya?

Cursed.

Let's Talk About...Me? Eh, Okay.

Now correct me if I'm wrong, but blogs are generally about the person who writes them and about who they are. Right? Right...I think. Therefore, I've decided to start writing a bit more about myself (which is hard because in all honesty, I feel awkward/weird/obnoxious talking about me, myself and I). In installments. Aside from giving all of my millions of readers (har har) a chance to learn more about me, this will also force me to write a lot more. Which is always a good thing for an aspiring writer. At least in my opinion. Without further ado...installment numero uno.

Okay, so I was an awkward kid. A really, really awkward kid. The baby fat that's supposed to come off when you're in the 4-7 age range didn't come off of me until around 14 or 15. It was a weird time.

One of my most vivid memories of my childhood is when I was around 5 or 6 years old. My dad snagged 2 tickets for us to see Bye Bye Birdie with Tommy Tune as Albert. Since my dad played Albert in high school (and never got over just how special that was for him), this was a big deal. Such a big deal in fact, that dear old dad decided to get a limo for the occasion. My way of celebrating just what a big deal this was? Donning my brand new ultra white Keds (remember those?). En route to the theatre, I had to pee. Problem? No bathroom in said limo. My dad being...my dad, he kindly asked the driver to pull over and told me to go in those bushes over yonder. Problem? He forgot to tell me to squat. Yes, you guessed it folks: I walked into that theatre with my new yellow Keds.

Okay, so I was an awkward kid.

It was a weird time.

Not Okay, Okay. Not Okay...Okay.

Please! Say it ain't so! This can NOT be happening!

Seriously. I would not be okay with this if it's true. End of story.

What I am okay with is this weather. I love it. I wanna marry it and take it to the beach with me all the time.

I'm also more than okay with this great site I found through People Magazine. I'm a dork; I can openly admit it sans shame and so this is my kind of thing. That's not to say that all people who take part in this little book club are dorks. I just think it's a brilliant beyond brilliant idea. The idea is simple: sign up (it's free...for now), post books (but only those that you wouldn't mind not getting back), and voila! If your reading taste is any good, you'll have requests for your books, ship 'em out (it only costs about $2.23 per book) and earn credits once they're received. You're then able to request books using those credits. Sound complicated? It's not. I highly recommend it. Come on, be a dork with me. Or just help yourself save some book dough in this horrible economy. Your choice.

And now for a picture, just 'cause.

Now, rather than sell this teeny tiny picture to some tabloid (I have dignity, thank you very much), I've decided to post it for the thousands of readers I have (har har). Yes, those are the famous Jonas Brothers, walking off their set for lunch. I just so happened to be working on that lot when they just appeared and bam, so did my camera phone. And while I am in no way a fan of the Jonas Brothers, I am somehow cursed when it comes to celebrity sightings (and I live in LA, go figure). So when I saw not one, not two, but three of the most fawned over boys in the (dare I say it?) world right now, I had to document the moment. Can you blame me? No? Didn't think so.

Ah! I must go. Jon and Kate are on Oprah. Here's hoping...