Bad enough that we go to the ?ber yuppie health club, but Brian gets a discount through work and he chose this place because they have pick-up basketball games. And actually, since I’ve been going regularly, I feel a lot more comfortable there than I did the first time I ever went. The front desk and juice/coffee bar staff is totally friendly. I’ve never had to deal with the personal trainers, but they seem all right. Also, the facillities are absolutely superb. If you click on the link you can take one of those virtual tours. Too bad they don’t show the locker rooms because that’s part of what this post is about.

As I said, the employees are nice. The patrons, and I can only write about the women, are a different story. Most of the people in my age range (mid-30s to 40s) are snobby, pretentious, rich bitches, or if they’re still in their early to mid-20s, they’re total sorority girls. whether or not they actually were members, they have that aura. They may not be rich yet, but they’re still snobby and pretentious. Nearly everyone went to a Big Ten school, so in that respect I fit in, but most likely they went there for undergrad. Here are examples of what cold fishes the women are that go to my gym: whenever I’ve sneezed, I can count on one hand how many times someone has actually said, “Bless you.” If you happen to be in someone’s way, you might hear a reluctantly muttered, “Excuse me.”

Anyway, for a place this nice, you’d think the locker rooms would be larger and less cramped. There are three aisles of lockers. The two nearest the entrance are divided in half crosswise by a short hallway where mirrors and countertops are located on the ends. The one farthest from the entrance is one long aisle. Within each aisle are two rows of lockers–half on top, half on the bottom.

I usually use the lockers in the middle aisle, which, like the one farthest from the door, has lockers on both sides. There’s maybe 5′ of space in between and a narrow bench in the center. Courteous person that I am, I try to take up as little space as possible, especially when there are three or more people in the area. If I have toiletries I’m not currently using, I shove them, and my gym bag, back inside my locker, and though I may not lock it, I shut the fucking door so no one bangs into it. If I go to the end of the aisle to use the mirror, again, I shove the rest of my stuff back inside my locker.

But then, there are these stupid ass bitches who can FUCK OFF AND DIE because they leave their shit EVERYWHERE, even while they’re in the shower or nowhere nearby! We’re talking discarded gym clothing, shoes, water bottles–they leave them on the floor, on the bench, you name it. Some dumbfuck left her combination lock on the bench. Um, hello? Ever drop one of those on your foot? Or after they’re finished showering, they leave their wet towels on the bench along with their full-size bottles of shampoo, conditioner, facial cleanser, deoderant, etc. Apparently, these dumb cunts have never heard of a travel case or travel bottles. I, of course, have all of these items that you can buy for less than $1 so my toiletries are not only organized, but they also take up less space in my gym bag.

At first, I used to meekly tiptoe around these people’s shit. Now, if I need to set something on the bench and there’s crap all over it and the owner isn’t there, fuck it. I move that shit over to make room for myself. Fuck being meek. I have decided to take a stand!

If any of you locker room bitches are reading this, get into your Lexus SUVs and drive on over to The Container Store. Otherwise, FUCK OFF AND DIE, you dumb fucking whores.

***Only leave your link in the box below if you’ve written a FOAD post today. You’ll be deleted otherwise. Thanks.***

And thank fucking God. Last night as I picked up Brian from work, I nearly hit local NBC mid-morning co-anchor Art Norman with the car! Brian’s company is located at the NBC Tower, you see.

It was about 6:30 so it was dark, and I was watching the SUV directly in front of me to see where in front of the building he was going to pull up because it looked like he was picking somebody up, as well. I wanted to make sure there was space for me to park against the curb. This is all happening to my right. Art Norman was crossing the street from my left. Well, he was jaywalking rather than on the crosswalk, and at least I didn’t hit him! Plus, I was only going like, 5 mph, though, I guess that doesn’t really matter, does it?

Note to Self: do not take Benadryl and drive. That’s something that I already know, and if my allergies are so bad that I have to take Benadryl in addition to the Allegra and Claritin that I take in the morning, I usually start out with a 12.5 mg. dose of children’s Benadryl. But lately, when I’ve taken the normal, 50 mg. adult dose to try to get to sleep, nothing happens. So when my allergies were practically killing me yesterday, I figured it would be OK. Wrong.

Brian had the day off yesterday so we went ice skating in Millennium Park. I have now crossed this off of my 43 Things list. The outdoor rink is only open November through March, and I was afraid I’d have to wait ’til later this year to accomplish this goal.

It’s free to skate, but skate rental is a whopping $7. Fortunately, we have our own skates. My regular skates desperately need sharpening, but I’ve been too lazy to find out what the nearby pro shop’s hours are, and the skate rental place charges $8! Well, that may be the going price; I have no idea. It’s been a really long time since I’ve had to pay for sharpening. I wore my goalie skates instead.

I was disheartened at how awful I was. It’s been at least a year since I’ve been on the ice and the last time it was only for a few minutes. And the last, last time was in 2001. I shouldn’t have been falling every few feet while skating backwards. I was a frickin’ goalie once upon a time! “Was,” being the key word. And skating forward? Pfft. No balance.

Part of the problem, as the skate guard kindly pointed out, was that my skates weren’t tied tightly enough. You shouldn’t be able to insert your fingertip under the laces. My regular skates have waxed laces that make them a lot easier to tighten. Anyway, once I — OK, Brian–fixed this, I was flying like I flew before. Not as confidently as I would have liked, and I think part of this was because I was wearing goalie skates, the blades of which are shaped differently from regular skates. I’m really, really rusty. Embarrasingly so.

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Heh. This was me in another life. I’m the short one on the left, folks, not the tall redhead. Heehee. That’s my friend Julie, another grad student at the time. This was taken in the locker room before our game against Michigan. I wasn’t really a goalie; I was a forward. However, we didn’t have anyone else to play, so (what the hell possessed me?) I volunteered. At this point, the only goalie equipment I had were my glove and blocker. Notice that the brand is Brian’s. I didn’t own my own pads. I was using the club’s pads that were a million years old and way too big on me. For one thing, they were for men, and all of my hockey gear is in boys’ sizes. I did get my own pads eventually. I also have a goalie helmet, but I didn’t like it as much as my regular helmet because I couldn’t see anything below my chin.

The first of two seasons I played for Ohio State was the first year we had a women’s Division I team instead of just a club team. There was no organization at all. According to the team’s snazzy new web site:

Following the formation of the varsity team were slim years for the Ohio State women?s club hockey team. The 2000 season was the last year the team participated in the CCWHA. The team remained independent playing a sporadic schedule with little funding. Kate Nushart says of it, “we were just a group of girls who enjoyed playing hockey together–we had no direction and no focus.”

the 1999-2000 Ohio State Women’s Club Hockey Team
CCWHA tournament at Michigan State

Apparently, the team’s budget is now $30,000. Know how much ours was? $1500. In my second season I was the club’s vice president and in charge of raising funds from local businesses. We had a few donations for raffles and stuff, but nothing great. Now, they have a frickin’ booster assocation! I wouldn’t be able to play now anyway, because the team is only open to undergrads. During my time, it was open to all students, faculty, and staff.

Our coach was a grad student himself — a PhD student at that, so he was unable to travel with us to games. Yep, we sucked. We didn’t win one game, and it wasn’t just because I was a new goalie — the rest of the team wasn’t great either, and entire games were played in our zone, meaning that I saw action for the entire frickin’ game. But boy, was I in shape. And you know what? We had the time of our lives!

The one game we did win was in spring quarter of 2000. Our season was over, but we formed an intramural team. We beat a team of guys, and they were not happy! Bwahahaa! We also played as a team in intramural softball. We won a lot because the other teams never showed up.

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I hadn’t realized ’til just last week that I have three recurring dreams:

• one in which i’m naked in public;
• the second in which I’m still in college or grad school, and the only class I need to graduate is some horrible math class that I’m failing miserably — even though I finished grad school in 2002;
• the third is me playing hockey again. In every single one of my hockey dreams, I’m back playing right wing.

I had the hockey dream again last week. I don’t know what it means, but I’ve decided to sell my goalie equipment at the start of this year’s season. I’m thinking that I might start playing again in one of the many local women’s teams. If that’s the case, then I have a lot of training ahead of me — as a winger.

While we were skating yesterday, Brian told me that I shouldn’t dwell on my performance, that I should be proud that I finally put my skates back on and accomplished one of my goals. As someone currently going through a depression, it’s so easy for me to see the negative side of things, to be so critical of myself, and, as regular readers know by now, so hard for me to see the big picture.

Last week, I could barely make it out of the house. Yesterday I was back on the ice. There’s got to be something to that.

yesterday, it seems, was Drive Like an Asshole Day. i could not believe the asshole drivers i came across as i drove around town running errands. i meant to blog about it yesterday, but i was too worked up (well, other anxiety-provoking things happened, too, like spilling chili on one of my favorite, predominantly white shirts because i had to eat it in a parking lot; a stupid, no-name radio jock disparaging a bipolar singer of a band i don’t even like on the air; and other stuff, blah blah blah). in fact, i was still so preoccupied by yesterday’s events that when i showered this morning i used conditioner on my face instead of exfoliator. heehee.

i was driving south on Clark Street when up ahead i saw 2 cars in reverse, about to parallel park. so i started driving around them, when this truck behind me did the same thing and tried to pass me. Clark is a 2-lane street and although you can pass, there was no need. traffic was light. and what kind of asshole passes a driver who’s passing another car, anyway?

meanwhile, a middle-aged lady with big, brassy hair was jaywalking. i honked at her, hoping she’d finish crossing quickly so i could hurry up and pass the 2 parking cars. instead, she stops in her tracks staring at the asshole driver, her chin grazing the ground. so i honk louder and even though my windows are shut, yell, “move, lady!” like that would help. since she didn’t, i slowed down and took the opportunity to honk some more, looked in Asshole Driver #1′s direction and yelled, “asshole!” believe me, Chicago drivers can read other drivers’ lips because they’re usually yelling “asshole!” or “fucking bitch!”.

Asshole Driver #1 passes me and of all things–he’s driving a frickin’ Brown Elephant truck! i’ll schedule a pick-up all right, pick this up, motherfucker. *gives the finger*

not 5 minutes later, i’m approaching a stoplight and would have been say, the 5th car back. the van in front of me was flashing hazards but wasn’t double parked, so i drive around it. now i’m in the left-turn lane, but since the van was broken down or whatever, i would just get back in front of it. or so i thought. Asshole Driver #2′s vehicle worked just fine.

when the light turned green, i was stuck in the turn lane because Asshole Driver #3 who was immediately behind Asshole Driver #2 kept going. hey, asshole–keeping the tags on your winter hat has been out of style for years. moron. luckily, the driver behind him waved me in. so what did i do, i gave him The Wave back. i mean, that’s what you do when someone lets you ahead of them.

on my way back north, i’m on Broadway just past Diversey. at a stoplight there was a parked Jeep Cherokee with its signal on. the car in front of me wasn’t going to let them in, but i decided to since another driver did something nice for me earlier. besides, they had the signal on. if they didn’t, they could fucking forget about it. the guy finishes merging into traffic.

i’m waiting, waiting. no Wave. what the fuck? i let you in when the car in front of me wasn’t planning to and you don’t give me The Wave? i saw the sticker on their back window. Notre Dame. that said it all. go Bucks!

there’s a new site called Illinois Bloggers that lists, well, blogs written in Illinois. there are 3 categories: center–left, center–right, and non-political. hmm…can’t imagine what mine’s under. the only time i’ve ever been right-wing was when i played hockey. of course i’m listed under non-political!

and what makes this directory different from others? it includes an RSS feed of all the listed blogs. so go on and sign up. i’m only one of like, 6 non-politicos! let’s increase our non-partisan and non-political blog numbers, people!