A Gym Story

Today, a young ambitious woman hit the local athletic club for her daily workout. Little did she know that a little over an hour from the time she left her office, she would be waging a battle against an unexpected foe.

The first phase of the workout was productive: 30 minute interval training consisting of easy 2-minute jogging intervals and 1-minute sprints in between. She achieved the adrenaline high she had been waiting for all day. Not totally satisfied, she moved on to the elliptical trainers for an additional 20 minutes of cardio. Several minutes passed, and with Marilyn Manson blaring on her iPod headphones, she reached a steady rhythm on the elliptical machine. Then without warning, it hit her.

The Right Hamstring tightened up just ever so slightly. "Hey," it called out, "Mind slowin' it down a bit there?"

The young woman ignored the pain, reassuring herself, "Tiger Woods won the Masters' on an injured knee - just work through this."

Aggravated by her determination the Hamstring intensified its warning, which caught the attention of the neighboring Gluteus Maximus.

"Can you believe this girl?" the Hamstring nudged and the pain flowed into the Glute.

"Hey, dummy! Girl! If you keep going, I'm gonna give you a whopper of a cramp!"

She reversed directions, took a big swig of water and breathed deep breaths with the hope that it all would urge the muscles to subside.

"I warned you!" screamed the Hamstring. The muscles seized and the young woman was forced to disengage.

Slowly, she lowered herself from the elliptical, and took very slow, labored steps towards an open area near a rail.

"Hahahahahahahaha," the Hamstring laughed maniacally. "I warned you, you bitch. That's what you get for working us to the max without feeding us first."

The young woman did recall the brief moment of panic between the office and the gym when she realized she failed to snack on her energy bar earlier that afternoon.

The Hamstring and Gluteus continued their combined assault as the young woman struggled to stay upright, leaning against the second floor railing, attempting to control her breathing. The pain was excruciating by this point, and her vision started to blur into a yellow haze.

The muscles refused to let up their spasms so quickly, and the young woman began her slow descent to the floor.

Two gym patrons nearby immediately came to assist her. They were asking her questions, but to the young woman, all she could hear were distant echoes. As they picked her up, she managed to whisper, "I just need to sit down." They helped her to the nearest chair, and she slouched down into it, her right leg still screaming with pain.

She stared at the glass window in front of her, the yoga class appearing like hazy yellow blobs of light. The young woman closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

"You ok? Looks like you're working out too hard there," one of the young men who lifted her off the floor spoke.

"Did you remember to eat anything before you started?" his companion asked.

The young woman slowly turned her head towards them and opened her eyes. "No Clif bar today," she explained softly.

"Ahh," the first young man said, "That's it then. Your body's mad right now - it's taking revenge."

The young woman turned her head back and looked at the ceiling. "Well then if that's the case, my body is an asshole." And with that statement, the pain in her right leg ceased and her vision returned to normal.

Moral of the story: Stock up on fuel pre-workout, otherwise your body will make you pay!

(True story! The subject of the story is perfectly fine now - a bit embarrassed, but definitely back to normal!)

Hairy Dudes Rule

Wednesday afternoons mark a new tradition: Happy Hour. And with Happy Hour comes experimentation. Today, this means surveying the local social scene; the question being: What do women prefer, hairy men or the non-hairy?

Approximately 60% of the females questioned answered that they prefer a little bit of fur, particularly because the absence of hair is an attribute to be left to the well-groomed female. However, a significant number of females did admit that the "sweater look", i.e. too much hair on the back and/or hairy genitals, is not very attractive. A well-groomed male is preferred but boys, take heed - waxing is a no-no. The chicks dig when you are manly. Chest hair is acceptable, and so is the hair on your head. Sadly though, for the older generation, white chest hair ain't so sexy. Sorry, grandpas.

When it comes down to it, primitive instincts prevail. From a scientific standpoint, when females are considering the ideal male to sire their offspring, they often look to the stronger, more dominant male. It is no secret that testosterone and a tinge of aggression attribute to optimal female-to-male attraction. The hairier the man, the more indicative the presence of testosterone, therefore the better he is a candidate to carry on the bloodline. The reality is that all men in general are hairy; those who are not probably shave/wax and are likely to be gay. Well, truly, that's just speculation.

One of the random girls interviewed said that hairy or not, it really doesn't matter - it's all about his dick. Quality of sex is the indicator. The only feasible response to that? Amen, sister. Amen.


Photo courtesy of Sharee

To Jesus Country and back

All God and Mormon jokes aside, Utah is heavenly country.

A dozen of us adventure-seekers took on Zion National Park this weekend, and for most of us it was the first time we had ever been there. Armed with provisions to feed a small army and our ridiculously excessive supply of alcohol, we loaded up on Friday afternoon and headed to a vacation rental house just east of the park.

About the house: Gigantic kitchen, lots of living space, river running through the backyard, fair location. All things considered, it was more than adequate. For me personally, it was welcome refuge on a trip that could have potentially ended up with me sleeping in a tent without the comforts of civilization. Thank God I have sensible friends.

Zion National Park was absolutely breathtaking. Winding through the mountains, one cannot help but stare in awe at the towering peaks and the colorful rock formations that were all so unique in design.

On Saturday, we drove down to the visitor center and rode a couple of shuttles that took us down to Zion Lodge. From there, we crossed a footbridge and hiked the Emerald Pools Trail. According to the guideposts, the Emerald Pools are named such due to the green tint the algae gives the three pools. They looked less emerald and truly more brown. Nevertheless, the hike to the lower and middle pools was fun. Those of us who made it to the Middle Pool fared well, considering it got a bit more challenging as you progress up the trail. Had we been a little better equipped - better shoes, lots more water - and the temperature not so warm, we could have ventured up to the Upper Pool. That will be another adventure for our next time there, as most of us agreed that we would most certainly go back.

Back from Cali, again

Since I didn't get the chance to hit the beach during last weekend's getaway to San Diego with my folks, a couple of my gal pals and I decided to drive to Laguna Beach for the day.

Despite having to overcome the noise of July 4th the previous night, we all arose early and were on the road a little before 6am. Cruising on the I-15 out of Nevada is incredibly peaceful in the morning and allows you to admire the glory of the desert.

Upon reaching our destination, we had brunch at The Cottage at an intersection of the Pacific Coast Highway, and enjoyed mimosas and breakfast fare, meanwhile soaking in the marvelous view of the seaside backdrop and the cool weather. We then gathered up some of our things and took a short walk to the beach where we relaxed until the early afternoon.

A pretty little town of roughly 24,000 residents, Laguna draws not only tourists but also aspiring and experienced artists alike, who often settle into life there, inspired by the culture and aesthetic of the location. Laguna's downtown area of Forest Avenue and its surrounding streets are lined with a variety of shops, mostly artists selling their work. After walking through the downtown area, we strolled over to the Sawdust Art Festival, where more local artists showcased their talents. There was live entertainment, various booths of painters and sculptors, and even a special booth for a glass blowing demonstration. None of us bought anything at the event, but enjoyed the sensory experience, nonetheless. We decided to return to the beach after that to cap off our visit.

So why go to California for only a day, you ask? Well, first off it's a holiday weekend, and the idea of having to be stuck in traffic in either direction for several hours with masses of vacationers didn't strike a chord with any of us. So driving out and back on Thursday and Sunday was ruled out. And holiday weekend lodging prices? No, thanks. A one-day visit would be sufficient. Secondly, the weather in Las Vegas is currently reaching record highs in the 110+ degree range, and it is absolutely intolerable to be outdoors for more than a few minutes - even in the shade. Southern California can be hot sometimes, but even at 85 degrees and 80% humidity, it's not as painful as the desert heat. Lastly, what better place to spend a summer day than the dazzling beach? Sure, there are lakes and rivers scattered in closer vicinity to Vegas, but nothing matches the beauty and ferocity of the ocean: the liveliness, bliss, and rich diversity of people; the foamy, crashing blue waves; the smell of saltwater, seaweed, and sunscreen; the picturesque scenery. The three-and-a-half hour drive is most certainly worth it.

Adults only, please

Today's adventure led me to the illustrious Adult Superstore, a Vegas legend encapsulated within four walls. And oh, if those walls could talk, they would tell some interesting stories I'm sure.

For those of you unfamiliar with this establishment, the superstore is the ultimate toy store for adults, with items for sale of the sexual persuasion. Truly, if you are a local and don't know about this place, you are either so completely pure of mind (impossible, considering you reside in Sin City) or you have probably lived under a rock.

This was my third trip here. The first time was a few years ago following my 21st birthday. On our way home from a night of drinking, my boyfriend at the time and our roommates decide to make a stop there on our way home. We were there for hours, as the boys decided to peruse through each aisle and either review or speculate on the content of various DVDs on display. We went home empty-handed, since the guys couldn't justify buying porn when they regularly stole cable.

The second trip was a few months ago with some of my gal pals on our way home from a night of drinking in the wee late hours of the morning (again!). That experience was fun because while we were pointing and laughing at movies and toys, we noticed another patron nervously pacing in front of the AS theater. He couldn't bring himself to enter the theater for some reason, and eventually left after several minutes. We suspected it was his first time, and might have just been embarassed. Either that or our unbridled laughter scared him off.

Today, I went to the AS on a mission: to buy a birthday present for a friend. (Seriously, I know some of you are snickering and/or commenting that I went to stock up on stuff. Think what you want, pervs. The little black plastic bag here says otherwise!)

This afternoon's visit was a whole different experience because 1)I was actually going there with the intention of buying something specific, 2)it was midday, and 3)I had not been drinking prior to traveling there. Seeing that place in the day through sober eyes was more fun than I imagined. First off, the parking lot was not sparsely occupied as I had expected. There were some seemingly normal-looking people there, in fact, I think I may have spotted a former neighbor in the DVD section. The staff on duty were far more friendly and helpful than I previously remembered. But it was the multitude of toys on every wall of the first floor that was the main attraction. If you name it, they have it - no matter how obscene or obscure the contraption.

The sex industry is definitely not short on creativity, although seeing all of these "props" has led me to believe that artistry of sex is quickly fading into oblivion. Sex is becoming less intimate, far less sacred, and more of a hobby than a bonding expression. The toys leave nothing to the imagination.

Some of the more notable items for sale include "The Destroyer", clearly a marketing failure - why purchase something that sounds like it could potentially annihilate your orifices? Another phallic faux pas is "The Ultimate Challenge" which nearly matched the length and circumference of a human male arm - and not a male midget...I mean a full-grown normal sized man. The Ultimate Challenge must have weighed 20 lbs. Absurd.

So if you're looking for a place to find great gifts for friends or a stop between the club and home on a late night, I would recommend the landmark Adult Superstore. It's where you can share laughs, be disgusted, and be entertained in one trip. I look forward to going back!