My training session today didn't go so well, and I'm kinda annoyed by it. Usually, I head into the gym in the morning, so I know the three morning trainers. Work requirements dictated, however, I go into the gym in the afternoon (or at least late morning) today. As a result, I had a different trainer.

About half the time I've been, I've had a partner training at the same time. The facility is set up so that each trainer has a maximum of two training partners, one working while the other is resting. I usually go in at odd enough times that I have the trainer to myself, but sometimes I have a partner.

Today's training included a partner.

This partner was the first that was significantly different than I: he was big, strong, loud, and, for the most part, well muscled. Contrast to me: petite, few muscles, quiet.

Heh. Me. Quiet.

Did I just say that?

The trainer started with the other guy, and would have him do 2-3 exercises (like something with both arms, right only, left only, then a different one with both arms), then worked with me. I would do three sets of one exercise, then the trainer would move back to the other guy.

I managed to get only five exercises in: bench press, inclined bench press, pull ups, bicep curls and tricep curls. The other guy started before and ended after me, so he managed to get 12 - 15 exercises in. The trainer spent more time with that guy than with me and I left miffed about it.

I bought a package deal with the facility. At this point, I'm not so inclined to get another. Might just finish this one out next week and find a real gym. Of course, that means I have to find a workout partner so that I stay motivated: motivation being my real reason for heading to this facility in the first place.

Mike and I went up to the school today. We intended to work from 7 until 10, but when Kate's out of town, life happens for Mike, and we ended up taking the dogs up to the school to eat cat poop, roll in dog poop, splash through mud and frolic with the other dogs.

Oh, and let Liza run around.

I managed to forget each and every Annie toy, but three golden retrievers made up for my lack of dog-saavy by chasing her around and around and around. Surprising, Bella didn't do her usual walk along the perimeter, howl at squirrel tracks about three days old and poop in the tall ivy. Instead, she ran around the middle of the field, ate sewage and splashed in the mud.

I had given her a bath only the day before last. Dog.

As we were leaving, the owner of one of the retrievers said hello. She introduced herself as a neighbor with the McDonald's munchkins in her front yard. I asked if she were the person who walks the dog while reading a book (note the correct use of the subjective in that sentence fragment). She said no, then started telling us about our neighbors, their pets, the new construction on the block, who lived where and what they did.

Her description of the neighborhood was quite entertaining when she pointed to Mike and said, "You recently had a baby. I see your wife with your kids every once in a while. I haven't seen her recently. You own a red station wagon." It then turned uncomfortable when she turned to me and continued, "You drive a sports car, and just planted your Christmas tree in your front yard."

D'oh.

Mike's Christmas tree, but close enough.

She knew everything. Well, almost everything. What she didn't know, I could fill in the gaps, like the two kids across the street from us (they're building a second story), or our neighbors to the north or south. She knew about the construction going on along the block (same construction company), as well as the Corridor-of-Death™.

Part of me was uncomfortable with all that she knew, but the other part of me realized that, well, she didn't know more than I knew just by observing the neighborhood. If I went on the walks with Kris, I'd be up on all the block happenings, too.

As we were leaving, she suggested a block party this summer. I remember block parties from when I was a kid, and am so excited by the thought. I'm happy to have met Debbie, and will need to go knock on her door sometime soon to get that block party happening.

Note to self: when attempting to relive various childhood moments, consider the not-so-childlike parts before proceeding.

Take, for example, standing on the edge of the bed and dropping onto one's butt, only to bounce off the bed into a standing position.

Lots of fun, but wear a good bra before attempting.

Trust me on that one.

In an easy and relaxed manner, in a healthy and positive way, in its own perfect time, for the highest good of all, I intend $1,000,000 to come into my life and into the lives of everyone who holds this intention.

Details.

Entertainment factor: high.

"Excuse me for my ignorance, it wasn't very smart. But if it came out the other end, it would have been a fart."

Blink.

Blink. Blink.

"I don't think I've said that since I was twelve."

Much hilarity ensues.