Monday, April 24, 2006


Today I went to the gym, and positioned myself on the treadmill to warm up for a vigorous workout of hoisting up to two pounds at once, but forgot my headphones. This made me exhale very, very loudly, furious at the fact that here I had to get off the treadmill and walk all the way to the parking lot and back before I could start my workout. Well, good thing I drove around the lot two times before nabbing the closest space to the door.

I do not enjoy working out at the college gym, because it makes me feel woefully old. The treadmills have a workout tracking system, and at one point you have to enter your age, and it's automatically set on 18. You have to press the "arrow up" key each time you need to add a year. I have to press the "arrow up" key a lot.

In other news, I absolutely horrified some of my students over the weekend by having the termenity to exist outside of the classroom. We attended a gentle soiree hosted by Fletch The Extremist. Please note that eBay + $4.75 + a costume party+The World's Most Pathetic Former Cocoa Beach Resident=this:

Here is a picture taken before Major Nelson had to return his tie to USAF ROTC Cadet Scott the Taller, whom he outranked for about an hour. I cannot understand why I am not a professional photographer, what with my outstanding ability to select classy backgrounds. Also, will somebody please pet Josh the Pilot over his nametag, as I think he cares for it more than he does for me:

I think we can all agree that is very healthy for graduates of womens' colleges to portray styrofoam-boobed television characters who referred to their husbands as "Master."

What you need to do some Saturday night is wander a darkened apartment parking lot clad largely in polyester and netting, searching out a party location that was described to you as following: "It's in that one building? By the curb?" We couldn't find Fletch's apartment, and were in certainly no position to go knocking on random doors, as I'm sure it's a delightful thing to open your door at midnight on a Saturday and see two total strangers dressed like the version of Nick At Night that is broadcast to the inhabitants of hell. Although I believe I very nearly had Josh The Pilot convinced that he could get away with telling people he was conducting some sort of Homeland Security check. Him and his mega-awesome Official Nametag.

We wound up outside what we were fairly certain, within a range of 1-2% certainty, was Fletch's place, and crammed ourselves against the door for a while praying that he would simply happen to be standing directly on the other side of it, loudly wondering where Josh and Mary Beth were. Instead prepared for a potential life together by spending at least ten minutes hissing, "You knock!" "No, you knock!" "Me? What if it's the wrong place? What am I going to say?" "You just don't love me!"

When we entered the party, Fletch was wearing his underwear outside of his pants, somebody pressed a grape Jello shot in a Dixie cup in my hand, and you know what, there's a reason why I switched from grain alcohol to red wine. It happened right around the time I got a job.

Josh The Pilot and I each did a shot, then stood around in the kitchen chasing it with Dixie cup after Dixie cup of water, because we feared spewage, and had to get up for Mass in the morning. We agreed that the patheticness of our very selves far outweighed the benefits of waiting for the next batch of Jello shots to firm up, and left just as Fletch was wrapping himself in an array of garbage bags.

As we took our leave of those still standing, I locked eyes with one of my students, whose face took on, in order, the following expressions:

1) Inebriation
2) Slow recognition
3) Understanding
4) Denial
5) Horror
6) Further horror
7) Fear
8) Pity
9) Inebriation

We did not converse; we did not even look in one another's general direction again. One of this students' classmates asked how my weekend was this morning, and I said, "Oh, fine. Graded papers," and stared very hard at the podium. It was as if we'd shot a pizza delivery man just to watch him die, then stuffed the body in a shopping cart, and agreed to never mention it.

"So soon?" Fletch asked as we left. Ten years too late, actually.



Josh The Pilot said...

Will y'all please compliment MB on how pretty her abs look? She thinks she's fat, but we now have photographic evidence to the contrary!

em said...

I'm impressed that you ate/drank(?) the Jell-o shot. I gave them up after watching one too many people digging them out of dixie cups with their fingers and then slurping the runny Jell-o chunks. And I send you virtual high fives for rocking the Jeannie costume. You look smashing. :-)

racheal said...

Actually, jtp, I was going to say that her tone little tummy was the first thing I noticed in the top picture. Although it is true, it now sounds like I am just saying it because you told me to. So, for what it's worth now, mb, your abs really do look very nice!! And, even though it is not a glamour shot, it is a very good picture;-).

CSchmidt said...

I agree MB - you look awesome!

my kidz mom said...

"I cannot understand why I am not a professional photographer, what with my outstanding ability to select classy backgrounds."

Photo #2 was snapped in the, uh, loo? Unless your friend uses a shower curtain for living room draperies; in which case, request permission to submit said friend's name to "Extreme Home Makeover - The Bachelor Pad Edition."

Lizzy said...

I actually work with people like that. But we are all still young enough to get away with it. I, sadly, am on the cusp of not getting away with it, which makes me very sad and/or embarassed when I go out with these people.

red pill junkie said...

Jell-o shots?? What are those?

Here in Mexico we do the shots the RIGHT way: with Tequila! :-)

And Josh is right: the Lent abstinence had some reward after all in the end.

Nicko McDave said...

Yep, Josh tells truth. Nice firm tummy. I bet you're going to be the darling of bellybutton fetishists all over the internet.

mike the longterm reader said...

Oh. My. God.

Best under-five-dollar costume EVER.

kelebek }{ said...

Now why did you do that Josh the Pilot? Now MB would think we didn't notice her abs on our own? Anyway MB, great ab definition, love the costume.
Now that I think about it I would absolutely be horrified if I saw a professor at a party with Jello Shots. I am not sure why, but it would freak me out for a while!

Josh The Pilot said...

I asked for compliments because she never believes me when I tell her that her abs look great. Now she can have independant confirmation that what I'm saying is true!
And yes, photo 2 (actually the first pic taken) was done in MB's bathroom because we needed a low shelf to put the camera on, and the top of the mirror cabinet was the first place that came to mind.
In case you can't read my nametag, it says "Sink Navy". It was officially issued to my classmates and I for the Navy football game during my short stay at the Air Force Academy.

Anonymous said...

Cute shower curtain - how deliciously ironic to have uranus constantly hovering in the bathroom - and, yes, nice abs :).

mike the longterm reader said...

I've been telling MB she's hot for almost six years now, so good luck ever getting her to believe it. :)

Tameika said...

Oh my gosh, hilarious! I ran into a teacher once at Olive Garden, but it was slightly different as I have a huge crush on him, and got to show him just how wide I can smile............... And you did look great in the Genie outfit.

Jcat2323 said...

Great costume, and the price is even better. Next time try to get the Leia gold binki costume so you can promote the abs and The Rack!

amy lou the reader said...

Will y'all please compliment MB on how pretty her abs look? She thinks she's fat, but we now have photographic evidence to the contrary!

MB...fat? Those are, in my opinion, two mutually exclusive terms.

Hell, I don't even wear shorts in the summer. Her abs are amazing, wish I had as nice a set.

And I'm totally not saying that because JTP asked me to. I mean it.

And, for the record, JTP is one of the most decent men I've ever come across. He and my husband are part of a dying breed - the Gentleman!

Anonymous said...
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Anonymous said...

Oh, indeed, Amy The Reader. I agree wholeheartedly. That's why I'm keeping him.

Thank you everybody for the kind words. Be sure not to have a life so that you can do 8.2 billion hours of Pilates, that's the key.

Bird Girl said...

My Honors Biology professor in college had us all over to his house for BBQ, popsicles and booze. He insisted on being called by his first name. He was, basically, the coolest prof/teacher I ever had!

You don't know me, obviously. I found your blog from your review on MSNBC of "Stick It", which I thoroughly enjoyed reading. I, too, was a frustrated gymnast who also did trapeze, so I can completely relate! My mother had made a masking-tape balance beam on our hardwood floor so that I could practice at home. I'm sure you can imagine how well THAT went...

Anyway, just wanted to put in my 2 cents, tell you I loved your review, and hope to read more from you in the future!

BTW, my blog is if you're interested. Some of my friends say it's boring. Judge for yourself ;-)


Anonymous said...

Trapeze, sweet! I would like to letter in Trapeze.

Welcome, bird girl. Thank you for taking the time to put in a few nice words, and please do stick around.

Anonymous said...

I think she looked ok. Actually, I'm happy to say she still looks good and I've known her longer than all of you

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