Sometimes I go through my days thinking I have nothing to share with you. Then I start talking to Lemony about a conversation I had and I realize just how idiotic – and bloggable – it really was.
I’ve been way caught up with houseguests …
Managing my extremely busy AirBnB business …
Some of my guests are fun (like the wedding that kind of happened here that I was completely unprepared for) and some are straight up bizarre, like this lady who drank two bottles of wine a night and left these behind …
Then there’s getting my kids to school on time and figuring out the homework thing which makes me feel a lot like this guy …
Of course I have to walk the stupid dog all the fucking time so he can keep the perimeter free of squirrels …
Then there is the free booze I find on my morning walks; something must be done about that …
Of course I need to stay out of trouble with that whole non-fender bender, anger management, parking lot situation …
And I’m trying to deal with That Fucking Cat and Testiclese carrying on. All. The. Time.
Yah. So all that’s happening. And I’m going to the gym again.
It was all that pie I ate during our ginormous road trip. It had me up about 10 pounds. I’m down eight with two more to go thanks to the hours I’m putting in at the club.
I’m taking these Total Body Persperation classes three times a week, along with Pilates (for my back) and general toiling away on the stair machine. It is truly the tortures of the damned, but it’s working.
I’ve been schlepping my shit to the club in a gym bag that is making me feel all losery and stupid.
It’s a nice bag and everything, but it’s just not me. I kept thinking about the glittery bags that my friends would bring to the pole studio. The way they sparkle just makes me happy.
Ever since Lemony showed me the joys of glitter, I’ve changed how I feel about it. It’s kind of magical. You can’t help but smile when you see a little glitter on someone, unless you are disapproving Loony.
I found the bag on eBay (because Victoria’s Secret doesn’t make it anymore) and I got it in the mail with the warning that it “kind of sheds.”
I don’t care.
When I walk out of the locker room all dressed up and carrying my sparkly bag, I feel unstoppable. Like yesterday when I was dressed all superfine in my new Vegas shoes and I ran into the evil aerobics instructor from my past.
This woman is a seriously crazy bitch and I’d do just about anything to never run into her again, like changing gyms for instance. But there she was at my gym and she said hi.
I was caught off guard and was able to be friendly and not weird and I’m sure my sparkle bag had everything to do with it.
I had to share my triumph with Lemony.
That Lemony, she always has my back.
Glerpes, by the way is when you “catch” glitter by being near someone who has glitter on them.
Scrotus always had a little glitter on his face because our housemate, Christine, wore glittery make up and liked to smooch him.
So I had glerpes on my mind.
Fast forward to this morning at the gym. We finished up Total Body Exhaustion and a lovely older lady complemented my top because it was glittery.
The top itself was just black, but my sparkle bag shed so much glitter onto it that she thought it was the fabric. I was confused at first.
Me: Huh? Oh, right. The glitter. I have glerpes.
Please keep in mind that the gym I go to is rather ritzy and it’s more the Lululemon and Prana crowd than the Bad Kitty crowd.
Nice Lady: Excuse me?
Me (being an idiot): I have glerpes!
Nice Lady (confused): Oh, I’m so sorry, dear.
Me: No no no! It’s a joke! Glerpes is when you have glitter all over you all the time. Like strippers do.
“… And kindergarten teachers …”
-Nice save! That was a close one-
Nice Lady (relieved): Right! I get it. Those kindergarteners and their crafts!
Me: You know … kids.
Nice Lady: So where do you teach kindergarten?
Me: I don’t teach kindergarten.
Nice Lady (connecting the dots): I see.
Me: I’m not a stripper, I mean, exotic dancer. NOT THAT THERE IS ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT! I just like glitter … and … have glerpes. Get it? Like herpes, but with glitter … (Shut up, shut up, shut up! Stop talking about herpes and strippers for chrissakes!)
We put the rest of our stuff away in silence. That went well.
I’m a little rattled by the experience.
But I’m going to Las Vegas for the weekend with Heather, whom I haven’t been able to come up with a suitable name for yet, even though she’s the best sport ever.
We’re going to Pole Expo where ALL THE POLE DANCERS are going to be and everyone will know what I’m talking about when I say glerpes and not look at me like I have herpes.
I’m taking Sexy Chair Dance and Spin Pole with Marion Crampe, Fluid Motion with Zoraya Judd, Bringing Sexy Back with Leigh Ann Reilly, Booty with Michelle Shimmy and Liquid Motion with Jeni Janover. I am so excited!
And Nina promised to get me into the Bad Kitty after-party where I hear it gets crazy.
Meanwhile, Heather and I will be sleeping a room without children anywhere nearby, taking workshops, relaxing by the pool and relaxing in the hug tub together.
I promise to take lots of pictures and blog all about it when I get back. But for this trip, I’m leaving my computer at home.