Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Over Easter weekend, Jon and I went to help out a very nice friend of ours that runs a one of a kind international natural body building show. We went to help out last year when it was in Edmonton at the U of A. We were more than happy to heft the weights up to the back of the stage, cover everything in sight with paper so the fake tan that the competitors wear doesn’t rub off on anything, and fold the 300 t-shirts that are for sale. This year the show was in Calgary, and since Jon and I were already going to be in Calgary to visit Heather and her very cute family, we volunteered again.
The competitors came from all across the country to take a blood test, complete a lie detector, and flex their muscles on stage. I was once again tasked to cover everything with paper. So my assistant and I went about covering doorknobs, chairs, the floor and the walls in paper to ensure the fake tan didn’t stain anything at SAIT. We were working along just fine, and then we ran out of tape. I ran back up to the room with all the supplies and where all the competitors were focusing in search of another roll of packing tape. They are so intense! All the men were lying on the floor with their legs in the air, listening to music, and staring at the ceiling like it may just disappear. While I was rummaging around to look for another roll of packing tape, I looked up to ask someone where it may be only to see a partially dressed man squeezing himself into the smallest speedo I have ever seen in my life. HELLO! I am a woman and the door is wide open – what the heck are you doing? Apparently no one else seemed to notice, so I fled the scene with bright red cheeks and no tape in hand. I made an executive decision that we had papered enough things, and that was that. Heck as if I was going to go back in there again!
I had completed my task, and the show had yet to start. Since I have a big mouth, I asked what else needed to be done. Apparently everything was done except the competitors needed some help with the application of their fake tan. I didn’t know what to say and I was there to help, so I gave myself a small pep talk, “I can spray paint a muscled man – no problem”, and then promptly agreed to help. I showed up to where all the men were getting ready to go on stage and asked who needed to be sprayed. They all looked at me like I had two heads. Apparently the spray tan is bad, and they all use ‘dream tan’ which is basically a lotion that stains your skin. So, there I was with a bunch of muscle men, just me, and jars of fake tan.
Do you have moments in your life where time pauses? Well, this was one of those times for me. I just paused, looked around for help and there was none to be found.
Since I had already agreed to help the men with their tans, I couldn’t really back out. Besides, some of them were quite pale, and looked rather desperate for some help. So I looked at the man closest to me, gathered my courage, and asked where his ‘dream tan’ was. Then I began one of the most awkward tasks of my life. I let him know every move that I was making, so as not to startle him.
DLH – Ummm…I guess I am just going to rub this all over your back.
Muscle Man – OK. Great. (Severe focus on his face)
DLH – Sorry, I am going to put this in your armpit now. I guess it’s good you’re not ticklish. Perhaps not being ticklish is a prerequisite of bodybuilding? (So nervous to be touching this strange man all over)
Muscle Man – Sure, uh huh (Not at all impressed with my high level of awkwardness)
DLH – Ok, um….I have to get the back of your legs here, and your…bum…uh…I’m just going to touch you here….ummm…!!
Those ‘shorts’ as one of the men called them are SO SMALL! My gosh! I was mortified. When I finally finished ‘dream tanning’ the non-talking, severely focused man, another short, muscle man needed help.
Luckily he was skilled enough to do most of his own ‘dream tanning’, all I had to do was his neck, face, and receding hairline. He was about 5’2”, so it was easy enough to see what needed to be done there. While I ‘dream tanned’ him, an alarm went off which meant it was time for him to eat his favorite snack - 1 tbsp of all natural almond butter. He was so excited, and couldn’t wait. It was somewhat complex to get his face to have a consistent color while he gulped down his almond butter.
I finally thought that I was home free, but a very tall man came running through backstage in an absolute panic. He was on in 15 minutes and he had no tan at all and needed to eat! Apparently they have to eat at very specific times, and there was no way he could wait 15 minutes to eat. So while he dipped rice cakes in natural peanut butter and dripped and crumbed all over the place, including me, I slathered him in dream tan. Let’s just say it wasn’t my best work! He also had rice cake crumbs that just became part of the tan on his chest. There wasn’t much I could do about that.
Finally everyone was tanned, and I was home free. I didn’t ask for a new way to help, just went out to watch the show at that point. I did have a very interesting tan line on my arms for the rest of the weekend, which served to remind me that being extra helpful may be extra awkward at times!
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
I found myself standing in the locker room in my workout clothes and socks without my shoes, so I emailed in a huff and demanded she return them ASAP. They were returned the next day with a very apologetic note. Apparently this woman’s sister decided that my shoes were her sister’s shoes because they had mud on them. Huh? How is mud a factor in deciding if a pair of random shoes in a cubby hole at the local YMCA are yours or not…?
So, I promptly put my name on the inside of my shoes and made all the women in the change room were aware of the situation. Bizarre, but apparently it happens.
THEN. I was at the gym a few weeks later. One moment my shoes were there, and then moments later they were not. While I was at the gym, a woman took them right from under my nose! How the heck is a woman supposed to work out if her shoes keep going missing? As of that moment, I was officially upset and unsure about the kind of women that work out at the YMCA. While I got ready for work after not working out because my shoes were MIA once again, I devised a plan. I decided to go out and look at all the women’s feet that were working out and make a scene when I found the perpetrator.
While applying my mascara, I notice one of the women that I run with covertly motioning to me. She quietly let me know that a somewhat confused looking woman just walked in with shoes that looked like mine.
So I staged a confrontation.
I found the woman standing next to the shoe cubby holes looking bewildered. I minced no words and asked her if she was wearing my shoes, and if so, why?
Apparently she was. She couldn’t find her shoes, so she opted to use mine. They looked similar to her shoes and since she didn’t know where hers were, she used mine. WITHOUT SOCKS. The shoes were still warm when she handed them back to me.
My favorite part was the fact that my shoes appeared to be about 3 sizes too large for her. She had to batten those suckers right down to get them to stay on, which resulted in a Ronald McDonald-esque look for her.
I have one question – who are these people and how do they not know what their runners look like??!?!!?
Apparently I have the most popular shoes at the YMCA. I’ve always wanted to be popular, but if this is popularity, I think I’ll pass.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Every Tuesday and Thursday morning my alarm goes off at 5:17 am.
Every Tuesday and Thursday morning I press snooze twice and am late for the ridiculously early morning run.
Every Tuesday and Thursday morning I get dressed in my work clothes, throw the cold weather running outfit in my gym bag, and run out the door with a granola bar in hand.
Every Tuesday and Thursday morning the in shape running women are forced to wait 3 - 8 minutes for me to quickly change into my running outfit and grab a drink of water. They are very nice. They have never said anything about my propensity towards lateness, although it must be severely annoying. I know this because I annoy myself almost every Tuesday and Thursday morning, and if you annoy yourself it’s got to be pretty bad.
So I came up with a plan to stop annoying the running women. I laid out all my running clothes and put my work outfit, shoes and accessories in a very cute green tote bag. I was NOT going to make anyone wait for me this day. Nope. I was organized.
I got up at 5:27 after only one snooze, drank a tall glass of water, had a multi-vitamin, and took some time to make toast. I was able to have such a leisurely morning because I was just SO dang organized. Everyone was pleasantly surprised at the lack of a crazed clothes changing event that took place this morning.
After surviving the early morning run, I grabbed the cute green tote bag and pulled out my work outfit to get dressed for the huge day that loomed ahead. While getting dressed and chatting with the other women I suddenly had a small moment of panic. Did I remember everything I needed for the day? What if I forgot something??! Some days I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, which meant I had to dump out all the contents and see what was missing. To my absolute horror, something was missing, something that every girl needs, something that is non-negotiable. I forgot my bra.
There are times in my life when I can’t keep the panic to myself, and I announce my latest fiasco to everyone. This was one of those events…suddenly all of the women in the change room knew of my current crisis.
DL – “Oh. My. Gosh. I decided to be prepared and very organized last night. But I was so organized that I didn’t put my bra in my bag. How is that even possible? A girl needs a bra in her day! My gracious.”
*Huge pause in the change room*
DL – “Well, I guess I’ll just have to go home and get my bra, nothing like being late for work. What am I going to I tell them, that I forgot my bra? All the men in the office would really like that one! Can you only imagine how that conversation would go? ‘Hey there….It’s Donloree here. Yup, I am just running late, need to go home to grab my bra…hope to be in around 8:45…’”
After many unhelpful suggestions, including to just go without a bra, there was an actual solution – even if it was unexpected and strange.
Cathleen – Do you want to borrow a bra? I have an extra in here.
DL – Uh…no, that’s ok. I mean, it’s kind of weird, don’t you think?
Cathleen – No, not at all. I have a ton of extra things in here for such an occasion. The worst thing to forget is your pants. Now there’s something you absolutely can’t go without!
I took a quick look at the clock and saw that it was 7:58. I had to be in work in 2 minutes and still didn’t even have a bra to wear. The situation was getting quite dire…what’s a woman to do?
DL – Ok…only if you are sure and it’s not totally weird.
Cathleen – Nope, here you go. Just give it back on Thursday. Remember, there was that one day I forgot pants, now that was quite the day!
All the women laughed as I announced that Cathleen is the most prepared running woman in all of history. Then despite my hesitation, I put the bra on, hardly filled the thing out, and called it a morning. I did what I had to do to be at work on time.
Now I know that pants and a bra are an absolute must! This is definitely something that everyone woman should know.