The Thora update is, well, there’s not really an update. Yesterday morning I woke up, went for a run, and called AtlantaBoy as planned. He has yet to call back. From YESTERDAY MORNING. Typical. Fucking typical. Reason #754 why we are no longer together: his irresponsibility.
Last night as I was falling asleep Thora let out a deep breath. I looked over at her and she was laying on her stomach with her head on top of her paws, staring out the window. I rolled over on to my side and said, “He’s not coming baby.” She didn’t turn to look at me, just kept staring out the window. I swear that my dogs understand me when I speak to them. Then I thought about how awful it would be if he and I had gotten married and had kids that we had to share in this manner. He would never show up to get them. Everything happens for a reason I suppose.
While I’m barely an eater when I’m in D.C., I’ve been steadily eating my way through Atlanta, hitting all the old favorites. Side note: for anyone who also had a love affair with Fratelli di Napoli, it’s no longer that good, so don’t bother. Knowing that I’ve become an eating machine, I was quite pleased to discover that the gym I still pay for has a location across from my friend’s house. I went over there Sunday to plan my workouts, grabbing a schedule for their group classes just for the hell of it.
Normally I don’t participate in “group classes” because, well, they just annoy the fuck out of me. I make my one exception for delicious Mike, at my gym in D.C., who can run a weightlifting class like boot camp, incapacitating me to the point where I actually consider calling a cab to take me three blocks home. But when I saw the group schedule, something caught my eye.
Gin Miller was teaching a class. Who is Gin Miller you ask? Aside from being world famous in the fitness industry, her major claim to fame is that she invented step aerobics. There was no way once I saw that, that I wasn’t dragging my fat overeating ass to the gym.
During the class, someone actually yelled “yee haw” instead of the normal “woo hoo” you hear in other cities, reminding me I was in the south again. After class, Hotbox and I (yes, that’s her name for this blog, and yes, it came from exactly where you think it did) went up to say hi to her. Hotbox asked me if I was creaming my pants. Not quite, bitch. Anyway, Gin had said during class that she was selling her house. So we asked her if she was leaving the area. She said no, that she was just moving north a little and had to sell the house because she was getting divorced.
We got out to the parking lot and Hotbox said, “See? You can be totally gorgeous, have a great body, be sweet as pie, have a great job and your husband will still divorce you.” Amen.
Oh. Shucks. Did I just say “Amen?” Heavens to Betsy, I reckon I’ve been in the south too long! Better get out of here in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.