Please allow me the pleasure of running without purpose

So, I'm not what you call an "athletic person." I don't particulary enjoy getting exercise, unless it's the elliptical precor machine. My parents never encouraged any sort of exercise, and they freely let me watch Full House every day after school while eating grilled cheese sandwiches instead of going outside and playing four square. In fact, they would, from the comfort of their airconditioned cars, LAUGH in the faces of people jogging down the road. In P.E. class, if we were being rowdy, we'd have to RUN as punishment, and then during the torture, the coaches would yell, "why don't you like running?!?! It's good exercise!" Well, probably we hate it because you use it as PUNISHMENT, you stupid fool. And also, explaining to me that it's "good exercise" is like saying, "hey, it's GOOD POISON! Enjoy!"

It also didn't help that I was in the below level P.E. class. Seriously. I don't know how they decided who was advanced and who wasn't, but in seventh grade I come to find out that I'm not not up to par, physically, with my peers. This was a crushing blow to my self esteem, which until this point was sky-high due to my awesome grades and excellent memorization of key Full House plot points. In class, I had to wear ugly grey uniforms and LITERALLY jump rope while the pretty girls got to play volleyball. They also got the colorful lockers and fancy gym bags, of which I was viciously jealous, even though, again, I should have been counting my lucky stars that I didn't have to do anything remotely physical.

Anyway, I still kind of hate working out, but since New Years I've been on a healthy kick and so far I've been doing well. The only problem with working out is that there's no end point. You never get to say, "well, I'm pretty fit now. Time to never work out again." How do I achieve goals? When do I know I'm "better" than I was before? I don't think weight is a good indicator, in that no matter what I do, I can't lose one single pound, and I decided all my fat magically turns to muscle so there's no good way of measuring it. And then it hit me. The best way to chart my own athletic progress? RUNNING A MARATHON.

Now, at this point you may be saying to yourself, wait, she HATES running. And marathons are pointless. And they disrupt traffic on the ONE DAY you need to go somewhere on a Sunday. And marathon runners are almost always douches. Well, this all may be true, but I decided this is the only way to challenge myself with measurable success.

The LA Marathon is this March, and because I can't run a mile AT ALL, I figure I should train for 2009. That way, I can have a goal of about 2 miles a month. I could maybe even join one of those training groups like Miranda did on Sex and the City. And I'd probably have an excuse to buy totally awesome running shoes. And maybe cool sweatbands. Yeah, things were really looking good. I am on board.

Until I look at the marathon website. You have to register for the marathon, and if you do so a year in advance, you get a REDUCED RATE OF EIGHTY FIVE DOLLARS. Yes. Apparently you have to PAY to RUN AROUND THE CITY. And if you don't register then, the prices just go up and up and up, setting somewhere in the low $100 dollar range, not including the training program. So...yeah. I really don't understand why anyone would torture themselves physically and financially like this. Because here is a little secret-- you can run ANYWHERE you want, for FREE. Go outside. See all that space? You can run there! Without the annoying people and the cheering and what not. So I won't be running the marathon next year, because if there's anything I hate more than exercise, it's paying for exercising.

Like Going to the Dentist (but in a good way)

So, I recently got an electric toothbrush. It's an Oral B Cross Action brush and it is freaking awesome. I honestly don't know how I've gone almost 25 years without this toothbrush. My teeth have never been whiter nor more stain-free, except for the day I come back from the dentist (only this time, I don't feel like I want to vomit).

Speaking of vomitting, part of the reason I hate the dentist is because I have what my mom calls "a very strong gag reflex." It's gotten better over the years, but it used to be a real problem. I had braces (from age 16-18, off just in time for prom!), and when the hygenist lady put that super nasty cement thing to measure my teeth in my mouth, my mom was all "hey, maybe you should get her a bib, as she will totally puke all over herself." The hygenist was really annoyed, because nurses and hygenists were always annoyed at my mom because she, as a nurse herself, always made them wear gloves and totally micromanaged the shit out of them. Anyway, the hygenist was all, "just breath through your nose," which is pretty hilarious given that I completely lack the ability to breath solely out of my nose or mouth (which is why I can't snorkel, and if you pinch my nose I will totally lose my mind and start asphyxiating). So basically, I threw up all over the hygenist, and myself, and it was freaking disgusting.

So I hate the dentist because no one ever believes me when I tell them that I will totally heave. But, the electric toothbrush provides a good brushing with minimal arm motion, and as a supremely lazy person, I love it. I'm not saying it REPLACES a trip to the dentist (that would be irresponsible), but it does remind you that taking care of your teeth doesn't have to be a chore.

What I really want, though, is this. It seriously MONITORS your brushing and tells you if you're brushing too hard and not long enough! It's like having an electronic dentist in your bathroom! That doesn't seem creepy to me, suprisingly. To me, this is the height of dental care sophistication. My birthday is coming up, too. I'm just saying.*

* I will kill anyone if they actually buy me that. I think it costs like $500. Please, put it toward an HDTV.

A Moment of Truth

Within the last hour, I've become totally obsessed with camping. Why, you may ask? Well, today I attended a friend's circumcision. Actually, it was my friend's baby's circumcision, because attending an adult's circumcision would be kind of gross (though, so is a baby's, but more on that later). However, I assume I am the baby's friend, so the first statement is accurate. If the baby had a facebook page, I'm sure I'd confirm the friendship and edit details like, "we know each other from so-and-so's womb."

Anyway, back to the circumcision. I was kind of freaked out, to be perfectly honest. Even though I know it's a huge part of Judaism, I couldn't help but think...man this is gross. I guess I wasn't the only one, because someone full on FAINTED during the ceremony. I seriously thought like, someone dropped a purse, but then it ended up being an actual human being. The doctor/moyel continued the ceremony--I guess he's better handling baby penises than lightheaded 20somethings--and the woman got up and apologized. I think even she knew that she caused A Scene and it was a sin to upstage The Baby. It's like getting proposed to at someone else's wedding. This baby is bleeding and crying, and you're fainting?? Try breaking a leg or something, because seriously, you won't win this contest.

Anyway, after eating a delicious brunch (waitress explaining to a non-Jew what a cheese blintz is: "I would say it's a little...a soggy."), I got to thinking about my life. Yes, I want kids, and lately I've been on this huge baby kick that I can't explain. I think it's probably because I want something adorable around, and my apartment doesn't allow dogs. But, luckily I know I shouldn't start popping them out for at least several more years, and until that time I should probably do something more interesting than reading strangers' pregnancy-related blogs. (Seriously. It's a sickness.)

I suddenly though, OMG, when I have children, I bet our lives will change A LOT. First of all, it seems like you can't really have a real meal, ever, because one of you has to hold the baby at what seems like at all times. Feeding yourselves and the baby seems to be this never ending revolving door that I don't look forward to. So I should start doing fun things now, before I can never do anything again. I starting thinking...man, I bet we won't be able to go on trips for a while. Or camping! OMG WE WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO GO CAMPING AGAIN!

Now, I don't think I've ever actually been camping, minus girl scout camp, which was HORRIBLE and boring, and Jewish camp in which one year I got pink eye, the next I got stung by something, had an allergy attack, had to be injected with Epinephrin, and had a horrible reaction to that which involved violently shaking uncontrollably for an hour, and the next year getting such a horrible sunburn that I was crying and convinced I had skin cancer. So...it's sort of odd that I'd be upset that I could never camp again, considering the next time I go, I'm due for a bear mauling. But suddenly, all I want to do is go camping and prove that I'm young and cool and not tied down by anything.

Camping seems like a pain, and I keep trying to remind myself that I'm not outdoorsy and I sort of hate nature. But camping in theory sounds super fun and healthy and relaxing, even though I have to remember that even going to the bathroom requires a flashlight, bug spray, a buddy, and a rape whistle. So, despite all this, I still really want to go, and I think Memorial Weekend might be fun. It gives me plenty of time to research and talk myself out of it. The one thing that always talks me back into it, though, is marshmallows. S'mores are like 95% of the reason I'm going. And don't tell me making them in the toaster is just as good. It so fucking is not.