If you're feeling sinister

Update (10:02 pm): Idol is dead to me.

The weather during the last several weeks has been beautiful and perfect for running outside. Everyday when I get home from work, I change into my running clothes while Abby follows me around with scary smiles and tail wags hoping she may get to go with me. When I tie my shoes, put my ipod headphones in, and grab the spare key, she knows she's going with me. She will begin to turn circles in excitement as I attempt to fasten her leash. However, yesterday was not as nice. It was cloudy and on the chilly side causing me to opt for the gym rather than an outdoor run. I walked Abby prior to changing into my gym clothes but that did not deter her from thinking that she was still going to get to go running. I suppose Pavlov was correct with the salivating and the bell and all because as soon as I tied my shoes and put my ipod headphones in, she started turning circles. She continued to follow me to the front door giving me this look of "Aren't you forgetting something?" It killed me to look back at her and tell her that she had to stay home. But because I am a bad doggy mom with a black heart, I did it anyway.

The fitness room had not changed much since I had been away. They had moved the wet-towel dispenser to a different wall, right under the television, which I am assuming is being used as a subtle reminder to wipe down your machine once you are finished with it, and because we are lazy Americans, the best place to put such a reminder is by the television. They had also placed a plaque with a list of rules by the front door. Something that has been long needed. My favorite rules and ones which I intend to remind people of if the need arises were, "No children under 16 years of age permitted" and "Please limit your time on the cardiovascular machines to 30 minutes if someone is waiting." There have been numerous times when I could have used both of these rules at the same time. The two hot girls that make me feel inadequate with their cute little work-out clothes, ipod nanos, lack of any kind of body fat, and their ability to work out without their face turning red and sweating profusely were still there. However, their presence made me work all the harder because despite the fact that I am not little or cute and my face turns red and I sweat profusely when I work out, there was no way I was going to let them outrun me on the treadmill.

My fingers are still sore from voting (or attempting to vote) for two straight hours last night. Yes, I am an American Idol geek. But if that girl who I refuse to name makes it to the final 2, I am swearing off the show forever. FOR.EV.ER.