i forgot we have a whole category for this now-craptastic show.

what did you think?

the phrase "the laughter of squirrels" made me die of laughter earlier today, so i googled it. and who knew, there's a poem. about squirrels laughing. or a quote. or at the very least words strung together. i submit to you george arnold:

O sweet September, thy first breezes bring the dry leaf's rustle and the squirrel's laughter, the cool fresh air whence health and vigor spring and promise of exceeding joy hereafter.

beautiful.

and forrest stump:

you're welcome. again.

lucky you.

writing about stuff at the gym made me think of this post of tommy's, about the squat rack, and dudes, and it is funny, so you should go read it.

it also made me realize i have not gone to spinning classes in god knows how long (i have been concentrating on the running), so you're all deprived of the heeeeesterical stories about godawful spinning music and biking aimlessly in the total dark. unfortunately, solitary running on the treadmill for 45 minutes at a time does not really lend itself to such tales. frankly, i'm too busy trying not to crumple up and die to observe anything going on around me.

except in the locker room. okay, let's take a poll: who gets utterly freaked out by all the naked people walking around? i mean, i'm not a prude. i mean, i am the complete opposite of prude. IN THE PRIVACY OF MY OWN HOME. can't we all just face the corner, change quickly, put on underwear while wearing the towel, basically exposing as little as possible of our flabby freckled flesh to the general populace? the younger women i don't mind so much (and no, not because of that, you sicko), but frankly i get completely weirded out by all the old naked ladies walking around. probably because, oh god, i will look like that one day.

except, i will live in the future by then, so maybe not.

my god. i've gone almost two days without blogging. something must be done.

........
.................
um.

ok, i have a gym question. why do women spend hours upon pointless hours doing ab work at the gym? when i go to the back room with the mats to stretch after my runs, the whole place is pretty much filled with ladies doing ab stuff on those big rubber balls; ladies doing weird crunchy things where they bring their legs up to their chests and point their arms out straight and wave them up and down very quickly. or else they are just holding the V position - legs slightly up, head up, arms pointed out straight, balancing on their butt and concentrating very hard.

this is stupid. for many reasons, but i will state two.

1. it ain't ever going to make a difference, unless you are an olympic marathoner/swimmer/etc.
2. women have bellies! we always will! embrace the buddha!

re: 1, i mean, seriously. seriously? seriously. you are not going to get a six pack or even any noticeable definition by doing lots of crunches. i'm speaking from personal experience, but the best way to get a somewhat-flatter stomach is to run a lot, on an incline, and just do a lot of cardio in general. i mean, a LOT. no matter how amazing the abs underneath are, women just have more fat on their stomachs and you will have to go to bizarre lengths to make it disappear. and why would you want to? i think rock hard abs on a woman are rather gross. they're a bit better on a man, but any time i see a guy with an extremely defined six pack, i think a) huh, that's kind of hot, but then b) about how much time he must have to spend at the gym. and how little time he must spend drinking beer and eating barbeque.

and that, my friends, makes me think.

that's catherine's gym wisdom for the day. you're welcome.

I'm sorry that the tutorial has been slightly delayed. The first entry has been living happily in Movable Type for a few days now, waiting for me to find time to test its contents on a Windows machine. Sadly, travel, work and Belgian beers have gotten in the way. Tonight looks to be pleasantly uneventful, though. I should be able to put something up this evening.

I hope I'll see the lot of you at the DCist happy hour tomorrow. It's sure to be mind-blowingly awesome for vast array of reasons, none of which I can articulate.

Sadly, I'm on morning roundup duty for Friday, so the traditional happy hour spectacle of watching me get drunk and embarrass myself won't be available. Maybe next time.