Every so often, Squeak & I go out for "ice cream." I've found that "ice cream" is code for many things in this world: Sunshine once explained to me how she and her childhood fuck buddy have an intricate ice cream code, wherein vanilla dates are platonic and chocolate dates are, well, not. In my case, "ice cream" with Squeak is code for gossip, and is even code for ice cream, since we usually really do purchase and consume a vegan variation on the traditional dessert. (Although there was that one time where no ice cream, soy or otherwise, was actually involved.)
Sunday night was a more traditional session: we went to Trader Joe's and bought a quart of vanilla So Delicious (tastes like eggnog), then sat in the cafe area of Ralphs to eat it and discuss our respective quarter-life crises. The conversation was long, and helpful, and we eventually concluded that in some ways, the early-mid twenties can be worse than adolescense.
Yesterday, though, two things happened which I feel are relevant to the concerns we discussed the night before. First, I was at the gym having a PT session for BodyPump (only the coolest group fitness class ever). We're mostly working on my squats and lunges, trying to regain control over my problem knee, but the trainer (nicknamed Mario because she's so compact, with short hair, and when teaching aerobics resembles the famed plumber) thought it'd be a good idea to check my form on all the other exercises as well. So we ran through them - chest press, biceps, triceps, dead lifts and rows, upright rows, clean-and-press, and overhead press - and she kept remarking on how good my form was.
"You're going to be an instructor," she said at one point.
"Funny you should mention it," I answered. "Whenever I get tired of being a secretary, I tell myself the exact same thing."
Then, when I got to work and checked my personal email, as I do, I had a forwarded "List of Rules for being Human" from my mom. And there was a Rule #6. And that rule was this:
6. 'There' is no better than 'Here'.
Wherever you are in life is 'Here'.
From any 'Here' there will always be a 'There' that looks better.
However, this is an illusion.
When your 'There' has become a 'Here', you will simply obtain another 'There' that will again look better than 'Here'.
Well, fuck. That explains W.
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Oh, you thin people and your fun ice cream dates!
BodyPump is the shit. I LOVE it. I went earlier this week, and had a spot near the mirror and thought, well, damn, there's a lot less arm-i-ness and a lot more curve, isn't there?
Ok, your mom's e-mail reminds me of a signature from e-mails I used to get: something to the effect of, Whoever comes are the right people, whatever happens is the only thing that could, and when it is over, it is over.
It made me cry when I was 18 and living in the most hellish house possible.
Yes, early twenties (mid twenties) do suck. And let me ask you this: have you ever guilted yourself into, say, going to a party you weren't in the mood for, simply on the argument "what if tonight turns out to be one of those nights where I have such an amazing time, I can't believe I almost didn't go?" and then you go, and it really sucks and you wish you'd stayed home and not over-romanticized it?
Yeah. Well, it's happened to me. And extrapolate that, and yeah, maybe that would explain W, and what would happen in that other, Sliding DOors-esque thread of existence.
Maybe.
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