I went to Eddie’s Boot Camp today with my friend A. I got my bootie kicked, but it was fun. But we take our boot camp seriously. Get in shape or die trying.
Tag Archives: pain
So I’ve started to go to this gym called Pop Physique. They do a mix of aerobics, weights, stretching, pilates, and bar. Basically from the first minute in you are in excruciating pain and it continues for the next 59 minutes. Plus I go to the one in Silver Lake, which is like a giant hive of hipsters. I swear I see at least one American Apparel leotard every time I go. But they have a great photo on their website, and if they can make my ass look like this, I’ll keep going:
So I just donated blood at work today. I got a free $5 coupon to Daphne’s (I love that restaurant) and for a free ice cream at Cold Stone Creamery. A lot of times I am low on iron, and they do the prick test on your finger which hurts like a bitch and my iron was a bit low. So the girl was like, we can check again just in case. So another girl tested my blood and this time it was fine. So now two fingers on my left hand have bandaids on them. And the first girl didn’t have me put pressure on my finger before she put the bandaid on so now it’s all bloody. Nice, huh? Plus when they were done I sat up and felt okay and they’re like, whoa, you look pale. So they made me lie down with my knees up and put a cold compress on my head and neck and the head nurse rubbed my knees and said how nice I was to donate. And then later I had orange juice and a cookie and some pretzels. But I’ll be okay later when I replenish my blood supply with margaritas when A and I go out for a bitch fest. Hurray!! Here’s a nice big picture of my arm. And that’s iodine on my arm, not blood.
On February 25, 2010 my dad passed away due to complications of Parkinson’s Disease. This is why LIFE IS NOT FAIR. My dad, mom, and I used to go on family trips where we would explore nature and go on hikes and stuff. My dad went on hikes almost every day on his lunch breaks. He liked to go do stuff. We backpacked through Europe and my dad ended up carrying most of my mom’s stuff as well. He was always a strong man, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. He always did what he thought was the right thing to do and he helped people. Over 100 people came to his funeral, and we received condolences from people he knew all the way back in high school.
And then he gets Parkinson’s and his mobility kept deteriorating and there were complications which I’m not going to go into at the moment because it’s only my third blog post and I don’t want to scare you away yet.
And then you think, why did it have to happen to such a good person? Why did it have to be MY DAD? Why can’t these things happen to bad people? Or to nobody at all?
I was going to post the obit from the LA Times but as it lists names and everything I have decided not to.