How To Relieve Stress After College

I was approached the other day by a personal trainer. It was awkward. I was working out at the gym, doing my usual cardio with my headphones on so as to avoid guys hitting on me when some huge, ripped dude in a wife beater and an 80’s crew cut walks up to my treadmill and knocks on it like he’s knocking on a door.

Yeah, he knocked on the treadmill like, “Hello? Can I come in?”

First, when I say huge and ripped, I don’t mean in a good way. I don’t understand why guys think women are attracted to big and bulky, but we’re not. We like underwear models, Brad Pitt types, Johnny Depp sorts. It’s not about the muscles, it’s about the confidence. Super big muscles just means a guy isn’t confidented enough with his personality so he overcompensates with his body. Be healthy, don’t be Hulk Hogan.

So this Hogan-like guy knocks on my treadmill and says, “I’ve seen you around here, I’m the gym’s on site personal trainer. You look like you might be interested in some training.”

Huh? What does the “I’m interested in personal training” look….look like? Doe eyes? Glistening sweat that says, “Train me!?” Anyone with a gym bag?

Well, he obviously MISread my look, so I clarified, “No. I’m not.”

And without missing a beat the dude went into a five minute speech about the benefits of paying someone $80 an hour to tell me to keep doing what I’m already doing anyway. I finished my jog before he finished his speech, so I sort of nodded, stepped off the treadmill, and walked right out of the gym. I wonder if he took the hint.

Ah, done venting, now for some blog links!

Visit Mark’s Daily Apple and learn about his damage control products and the caveman diet. You might also pick up some great information about the benefits of vitamins and omega 3 benefits. Hope this was helpful!

It’s no big secret I like to party on the weekends.

L.A. is a great town for partying. The clubs are great, and there’s a 2:00am last call which is actually kind of nice. If I really want to party hard, usually someone’s house is available for the wee hours of the morning, but if I’m getting tired of the guy I’m with, I can use the 2:00am last call to get the hell out of there.

Anyway, a good night of partying usually starts with good friends, and it really needs to starty at a good restaurant. So, why did one of my best guy friends decide to have his birthday at the Wester Sizzler?!

I’d assumed you had to be over the age of 55 to eat at a Western Sizzler. I’d also assumed it was something you did on a weeknight because you forgot to cook for the kids. I didn’t know it was possible to host a celebration at one of the buffet halls.

I was a little miffed going in. I wanted to dress up to go out. I had a tight, red one piece, and some new fuck-me-pumps I just couldn’t wait to gloat with at one of the better clubs in WeHo, but there’s no way I could sit through an hour and a half at the Sizzler with such an outfit on. Every white trash L.A. yokel would be eyeballing my ass like it was a plate of hot wings and chittlins, and that’s just not the type of attention I want.

So I compromised and I wore one of those pull-over jackets that are supposed to be cute, but completely hide the shape of your boobs.

Fortunately for me, my guy friend had a really good sense of humor. He rented out a banquet room at the Sizzler. Our own private buffy heaven. And he brought a large amount of rum and vodka. We turned the Sizzler into our own personal trash party, and it was more fun than any club I’ve been to in the last month. Maybe I’ll host my 30th birthday at Denny’s.

Anyway, after a hardcore night of salsbury steak and buffet mashed potatoes, I’ve got to seriously get my health on for a few days, so let’s start with a few healthy websites. If you’re into the benefits of vitamins like I am, check out the Master Formula site for a really good multivitamin. Until next time, peeps!