The Next Macarena

Most overplayed song of 2004?

Without a doubt, Outkast's "Hey Ya"
(Coldplay's "Clocks" not far behind)

10 People I Hate in My Gym

1. People who can't figure out how to put weights back in their proper location; or, put them back at all, for that matter. Seriously, how difficult is it? You pick up a weight from a given location, use it, and when you're done, you put it back where you got it from. Hell, even if you don't remember exactly where it should go, it's just a matter of matching up the number on the weight itself with the number on the rack!
2. People who teach rec. classes that require half the gym be roped off for 10 people doing lunges and bent-over tricep extensions. Feel free to eliminate half the equipment in the gym even though the students will use none of it. The worst is when the instructor then sends half the class out to use equipment in the remaining areas of the gym.
3. People that fill their water bottles up at the drinking fountain. If you're going to do this, at least be conscious of the line that is forming behind you and step aside so that other people who need to take a quick drink of water can do so.
4. People who merely serve as eye candy. I hate that there aren't any of you in my gym.
5. People who sound like they're giving birth when working out. Shut up, already. The entire gym doesn't need to hear the sounds of your hernia forming as you eke out those last few reps. (there have been scientific tests verifying that making any sort of noise does nothing to increase strength output)
6. People who monopolize equipment, not by using it, mind you, but rather by sitting or leaning on it, talking to other people. That's ok; I'll just wait here while you finish your all-important discussion of how loaded you got at the frat house the other night.
7. People who ask if they can "work in" when I'm right in the middle of a set. Sure, why don't you do everything in your power to break my concentration when I have a heavy weight suspended over me? Perhaps you'd also like to take me to the hospital after I perform an incidental tracheotomy on myself.
8. People who lift weights right in front of the racks. To really do this effectively, you want to make sure to block as much of the rack as possible as well as any sort of passageway in your vicinity. Be sure to sigh loudly and show disdain when people try to re-rack their weights near you.
9. The staff. Talk about worthless. Half the machines are falling apart, there is equipment out of place all over the gym, people are lifting without spotters, and only thing the workers do is sit around and talk to each other and surf the internet.
10. People who leave their bodily fluids all over machines/benches when they're done using them. Do you think of nobody but yourself? Did you not notice the standing pool of sweat you left in the middle of the bench? Is your mom going to come in when you're done and clean up for you? Maybe she can re-rack your weights as well.

History Repeats Itself

Break out your history books, kiddies; another milestone on the road of consumption has been achieved. While it was not your typical feat of strength or scholarly conquest, my name will still be immortalized.

I began training about six months ago when I joined Rock Bottom's Mug Club. The gist of the club is that you sign up and are issued an official card. Every time you visit the restaurant, you get a special mug (22oz) instead of a typical pint glass and the number of times you visit the restaurant as well as the number of beers consumed are recorded. Prizes are awarded based on number of visits (e.g. after 5 visits you earn a $10 gift certificate, after 10, a free pint glass, etc.). But, the real indication that one's time might be better spent at meetings instead of happy hour comes after consuming 120 beers. It is then that the card holder earns a plaque in the Barrel Club (there is a keg in the front of the restaurant that contains the names of everyone who has achieved this honor).

Tuesday was my day to shine. I gathered up a dozen or so co-workers and friends and we all went to Rock Bottom on our way home from work. I was two beers away from the magic "120" and coincidentally, on my 35th visit (which meant I was eligible to get a free T-shirt as well). Those beers bore the sweet taste of victory as I poured them down my gullet. I had the waitress swipe my card and she returned with the manager at her side. They confirmed that in a month or two, the keg would indeed bear a plaque with my name and my accomplishment on it.

As many of you know, this makes two eating establishments in San Diego in which my name adorns the wall. The first, of course, was at the Broken Yolk in Pacific Beach, for eating the Ironman Special. So now, I reach out to you, my readers, for suggestions for the next restaurant to which I should turn my attention to. Please let me know if you know of any other places in San Diego that have similar challenges.

A New Post for the New Year

I certainly can't say that the holiday season started off on the right foot this year. I had to work for the first part of Christmas Eve and then planned to meet up with Dana, Bill and Dave to do our annual gift exchange. I left the office after lunch and hopped on the freeway to meet the guys at Dana and Bill's place. My gas gauge was hovering around the "E" mark, but the light hadn't come on yet, so I was confident that I had enough fuel to make it down to their apartment. I was about five minutes into my drive when the car suddenly lost power, sputtered a couple of times and then shut off completely. Fortunately, I was right by an exit when all this happened, so I threw the car into neutral, got over to the right lane and coasted off the freeway, stopping about 200 yards up a hill from the off-ramp. Fine time to learn that the low fuel warning light doesn't work. Luckily, there were a few gas stations about a half mile up the road. I put the hazards on, pulled on my jacket and started walking in their direction.

I got to the first station and was told that they didn't have a loaner gas can and that gas stations no longer sold gas containers. However, there was a drug store across the parking lot that did sell the containers. Five minutes later, I found myself in the "auto supplies and hardware" aisle face to face with the lone remaining, five-gallon container. I started to pull it off the shelf when I noticed the numbers on its accompanying price tag: $24.99. It was at this point that I started to perform some elementary time versus money calculations. I could spend $25 plus whatever it took to fill up the container and be on my way immediately; or, I could call AAA and wait half an hour and not pay anything.

I called up the guys, told them I'd be late and started walking back to the car. AAA showed up about 30 minutes later and I was back on the road. I met up with everyone else and we changed gifts. Dana got me a really nice automated DVD rack, although I'm still about 20 discs short of filling its 80 disc capacity—I'll have to get to work on that. After exchanging gifts, we all hung around my place for a bit and then Dave and I drove up to Hemet together.

Each year, my family celebrates Christmas Eve at my grandmother's house, where we indulge in a traditional Italian seafood dinner. This year, there were only six of us, so we had some lobsters as well. Christmas day is usually spent at our house. Gone are the days of waking my parents up at the crack of dawn to run out and see what Santa left for my sister and me. Now, my parents have to come in and wake me up so that everyone can get started with their day. Lot's of useful gifts this year; most of which will come in handy around the condo. I don't know what it was, but the whole holiday season this year just didn't seem as festive as year's past. Christmas and New Year's seemed anti-climactic, stores as well as the malls weren't nearly as crowded as in previous years, and there just didn't seem to be much up in the way of decorations.

Speaking of New Year's; this year was pretty tame, overall. Randy and I met up with Ty and a bunch of her friends at one of their friend's boyfriend's apartment down in Pacific Beach. It was a really nice group of people to ring in the New Year with and we had a good time. Although, there were a couple minor issues both getting there and then getting home later in the night. We met up at Ty's place in La Jolla well in advance of midnight and called for two cabs to take us down to the party. Well, the cab company managed to write down the wrong phone number, so at least two waves of cabs came and left before we figured that out. Once everything was straightened out, however, we were on our way. I think we finally showed up at the party around 11:30 or so. We encountered a similar situation when it was time to leave.

We started calling for cabs around 2:30 in the morning, but of course, it was slim pickings. Right about 4:00 AM, I noticed a cab pull up outside. As subtly as I could, I informed everyone that had been in the cab with me on the way down that there was one cab outside and to very nonchalantly make their way outside. Everyone made it, with one glaring exception. You see, Ty had invited a co-worker of hers that she had only known for about a month and he rode down in the cab with us to the party. However, half-way back to La Jolla, she suddenly realized that he wasn't in the cab with us; seems he was still at the party. Never did hear how things turned out for him last night, but it probably wasn't his idea of the best way to ring in the New Year.

After New Year's, things have been pretty much status quo around here. The only exception being some drama revolving around my condo; but, I'll save that story for another time.