I had an amazing weekend! Because my gym trainee was coming over to my house (for the first time) to help me clean out my closets, I was embarrassed to have her see my house as the mess it was, so I spent all Saturday morning before she got there cleaning, scrubbing, vacuuming (never could spell that word), Windexing, disinfecting, sorting, disposing, decluttering. My house is SO spic and span right now that I loved being in it all weekend. We spent 3 hours digging through four closets, and I’m donating 3 large trash bags full of clothes, plus one packing box full of undergarments. Man. I can’t believe what an ugly fashion period the 80s and early 90s were. There were some things I had no problems parting with, but there were many more that I had to look to her. “This still fits. What do you think?”
“That is OUT. I don’t see you wearing that now.”
“Really? Is it the box cut [with drawsting on the bottom], or is it the flannel plaid pattern?”
“It’s BOTH!!”
“Oh.”
All the oversized t-shirts, sweatshirts and sweaters caused her to exclaim over and over again, “I don’t understand. Who were you buying clothes FOR back then?! Some fat…man? If a guy today fit in that shirt, I wouldn’t date him!”
This made me examine my old wardrobe thoughtfully. “I wonder why my parents let me buy all this masculine, oversized stuff when I was in high school. They’re all really unflattering.”
“They were probably just happy cuz the less feminine you looked, the less they had to worry about.”
Funny thing is that I told my parents today about all the closet cleaning, and they even brought up that my clothes back 10 years ago were big and menswear, and my dad reminded me accusingly of the flannel shirts and sweatshirts I’d taken from him. Oops.

(as usual, rest mouse pointer over photos for captions)

After my gym trainee left, I took off to Dwaine’s house. We went to buy lasagne ingredients at the grocery store, and then went back to his place to cook it. He was an avid student, very hands-on, wanting to do a bit of most things himself so that he’d know how to do it again later on without me. The lasagne turned out very well, except that he was so exhausted by then from the earlier San Diego mud run catching up with him that I had a really hard time getting him to slunk from the couch over to the kitchen to take out and cut the lasagne. (The reason why he had to do this instead of me, was because he wanted photos of him doing the impossible — cooking and pulling homemade food that he’d made out of the oven.) As we ate dinner we watched puppet sex on a Comedy Central show “Team America: World Police”, by the creators of “South Park.” Its antics were laugh-out-loud funny in their ludicrousness. And lewdness. It was a fun night. I even got a surprise phone call from Mr. W in Vegas, at a bar with his brothers while waiting to see the topless show “Bite.” It was a surprise cuz Mr. W doesn’t typically think to call me when he’s on a trip. He called me once the entire 2 weeks he was in Alaska last year. I was so glad to hear they were getting some good quality brother time in, and also that they were seeing “Bite”, as I know Mr. W had been wanting to see it every time we’d gone to Vegas recently, but the timing never worked out. Plus, I wasn’t particularly interested in the show so in a selfish way, it worked out for me. Hee hee. Altho I don’t think one of the brother’s wives was too pleased that they had gone to a topless revue when she found out about it afterwards.

Sunday (today), guilt from having eaten like a pig but not worked out at the gym since Wednesday roused me from slumber, and I got up and hit the gym for 2.5 hours. I did about 1.5 hrs of warmups and weight-training, and a full hour of cardio. I would’ve done less on cardio because the boredom always kills me, but “American Pie” was playing on one of the TVs. That easily killed the hour. I’d forgotten how funny the first movie in the series was. Strangely, it turned out my weight’s lower than it had been in a long time, at 125 (rattlesnakes be damned!) and my fat percentage dropped 2% as well. After the gym, I showered up and went to my parents’ house, picked them up, and we went to get fitted for shoes at A Snail’s Pace. I got reconfirmed that I overpronate, my dad was diagnosed as an overpronator as well, and my mom’s gait was neutral. “HAHA!” she laughed at us. “I’m neutral!”
“That doesn’t mean anything!” I told her.
“I’m normal,” she insisted.
My mom got nice Asics, my dad got a newly engineered pair of Sauconys, and I got a brand I’d never heard of until now, Brooks. My parents were excited to go on their hilly neighborhood walk tonight to try out their new shoes. It’s so cute, they never acknowledged the importance of really good shoes so my dad was stunned walking around in his corrective, supportive stability shoes. “It’s like walking on air! So light!” he exclaimed. My mom was a bit perturbed at the orange-colored accents on her shoes because she’s the fashion queen, and kept migrating toward the “cute” or sale shoes that aren’t even neutral and being disappointed that they felt funny on her feet. I left them with their new birthday (mom) and Father’s Day presents after dinner.

After spending more quality time with the DodoCat, I took Mr. W up on his invitation to hang out with him at his house. And that’s where I am right now! Blogging to my readers instead of catching up with the newly returned Mr. W. Oh well. 😀