I Did Not Come Here For Staring

Ah yes, another post about the gym. I hate the gym (still) even though I’m steadily losing weight and feeling less blimp-ish when I wear my gym shorts and trot along on a treadmill. I really, really, really hate the gym.

It is too inside. There are too many walls. Of course, walls are necessary in order to support the roof of the gym, so I guess I’m pretty glad they’re there, and gyms are kind of inherently indoor facilities, but…I work inside for 8 hours a day. I need to breathe real air when I’m done.
I just have a problem with how muggy gyms are, and how the oxygen gets depleted and then there’s a weird fan blowing sad air on me while I sadly do my ab workout on a nasty mat that nobody has cleaned in 6 years and has pieces of foam missing from it, like a baby was set loose in the gym and ate part of it. Stop. I don’t enjoy this.

And anyway, gyms these days are more like libraries than real libraries…Everyone silently works out by themselves, with their headphones in or staring at the muted TV (by the way, watching Jeopardy on mute with subtitles is surprisingly disturbing. The contestants look really uncomfortable, like they’re being held there against their will). My sister and I get really giggly at the gym, and then we feel like jerks, like we’re supposed to be quiet and just miserably get on with our workouts. We will not have fun here. Being in shape is not fun. Being in shape is serious business, and if you’re not an expert on getting in shape, then just get out of here. I have been silently getting in shape for 10 years and look how happy I am now. Look at my arm muscles! They’re bigger than my head. I’m so attractive.

Then you get some weirdo staring at you, and you can’t tell if it’s because they’re attracted to you (probably not, because I look like a wreck when I go to the gym, which is a fact that I am very proud of, actually) or if they hate you…because the gym is for hatred. I did not come here for staring, sir, I came here for exercise. And I would appreciate if you wouldn’t creep me out while I contort my body into weird forms and lift my butt in the air for some very questionable glute exercises.
Speaking of, the gym is the only place in the world where you can lay on your back with your legs spread and not seem like a complete twit. Normally it’s not acceptable to practically flash your lady bits to the whole world, but apparently in this muggy, sad gym it’s not only accepted, it’s expected. I still feel weird doing it…

Basically, I’ve taken to riding my bike a couple times a week and going to the gym less frequently. I will breathe fresh air if it kills me. Which it won’t. Because it’s fresh air, and that’s good for you.



Cappy Writes: A Disney Channel Original Series

In high school, I was voted “Most Likely to Star in Her Own Disney Channel Show.” Which makes sense, if you think about it, since I wear glittery pants that have iron-on patches and seriously weird flared bottoms. Also, I’m zany! So, I’ve decided I should probably start writing my show, since it’s my destiny anyway!

Opening credits: Cue montage! Girls painting their nails on a blanket at the park. Boy pushing back his hair and smiling at the camera. Parents laughing and shaking their heads at their kids’ antics. Oh, the antics! Boys TP-ing a house. Girls pillow-fighting. More antics!

Doin’ her thing and havin’ some fun! Every day is brand newwww! Look at Cappy, she’s the zaniest one! Out of her entire crewwwww! Cappy, Cappy, writin’ and angstin’ and learnin’ guitar. Cappy, Cappy, she’s a little bizarre! YEAH!

Girl (Cappy) crosses her arms, turns and smiles at the camera, then loses her balance and falls over. A pan flies into the air.

We see Cappy, a tall, blonde teen sitting atop her bed, clicking away on the keys of her laptop. Cappy’s room is super girly; Christmas lights hang around the ceiling and an orange tie-dyed comforter covers her small bed. A One Direction poster hangs on the wall facing the bed. Cappy, a hippie at heart, wears a peace sign necklace and about 400 bangles on each wrist. They clank together as she types.

An IM from Cappy’s best friend Mira pops up on the computer:

cutiegrl44: hey girlie! how’s the writing going?

capattack: good! can’t figure out how to end the story tho. do Trey and Cassie end up together or no?

cutiegrl44: they totes get together! just like you and Thad will!

Cappy sighs and logs off messenger, looking back at the story she’s been writing. “I just wish Thad knew who I was,” she mumbles.

Cut to the hallway of Cedar Swings High School, where Thad is leaning up against his bright green locker and laughs with his soccer buddies. His blonde Beiber-esque hair flops into his eyes, and he combs a finger through it to clear his line of vision. Cappy and Mira walk by quickly, and Cappy avoids his gaze as usual. After they pass him, Mira hisses, “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY HI?” Mira is tiny and feisty, and her curls bounce as she talks.

“He doesn’t even know me. And I don’t know what to say!”

At that moment, Thad looks over, catches her eye, and smiles a very wide, very white smile. He pushes his hair back again, then shakes his head around a little. Cappy swoons so hard she falls over.

Cut to credits.

Next week on Cappy Writes!

Thad might smile at Cappy again, but it’s unclear from the preview. Cappy looks confused about how to end her story. Mira and Thad talk about something, probably Cappy, but that’s also unclear. Thad does more hair pushing. Someone starts a food fight in the cafeteria. Mashed potatoes fly and antics ensue.

I Have Learned More

Happy New Year, muffins! I wish we could’ve all been classy together and that we could’ve kissed at midnight! Instead, I hope you all had fun ringing out the old and ringing in the new! I gave Chloe two pretentious cheek kisses at midnight, and I’d say that sufficed this year. She is my ladylove, after all.

In my tradition, I shall now tell you what I have learned this year:

1. Relationships end. I don’t know how I didn’t know that before, but I think I had this thought that everything stays the same throughout life. But no. This year I ended a lot of relationships, including a romantic one, that I thought would last forever. But I’ve changed, and so have others, and I’ve seen/experienced things that have changed my life forever. Also, people are jerks and aren’t always who you think they are. So that’s a happy thought.

2. I am strong. I have risen from the blackest moments of life and continued on, somehow remaining optimistic about what the future holds. I have felt the deepest despair one can feel and have risen from the ashes like a phoenix (to put it dramatically) (also, reading that back, I can’t stop laughing…imagining my head on a bird’s body…) and HEY HERE I AM! writing detailed instructions on how to lurk in corners….So I guess I’ve healed more than I thought.

3. On a lighter note, do not, ever, under any circumstances, try to make whipped cream in a blender. You’ll get curds and whey, and Little Miss Muffet may be very pleased, but you definitely won’t.

4. Don’t make eye contact with people on public transportation. They will either try to fight you, try to start a weird romantic relationship with you, or ask you if you have cats. Answer: Let’s fight, date, and have cats together.

5. I talk in my sleep. I say very angry, belligerent things in my sleep. I am terrifying in my sleep. I giggle creepily in my sleep. …Sorry.

6. Journalism is stressful, makes me want to pull my head off, and psychology is a better major for me. So cheers to me not having a heart attack at age 30.

7. I’m a classy lady! Last night, I saw Silver Lining’s Playbook (so good), ate salmon (also good), and went to the symphony (so. good.) before heading to a lovely little party where we played board games and snuggled on couches. There were party poppers involved. Classy.

8. I’m hilarious. Quotes from last night that don’t make sense but that will (maybe?) make you giggle:
“Let’s get schmammered at the symphony!” (We didn’t, because that would be stupid and also I am not a loser.)
(Someone else singing): “Mares eat oats and does eat oats, and little lambs eat ivy.” (Me): “What’s lamsy divey? That’s fun.”
Last, but not least: “You go Jean Valjean! Four for you Jean Valjean!”

I’ll end on that note and wish you all the best in 2013. Hope you’re all healthy and happy and have nice haircuts.

I love you. PS I ate bacon this morning. Classy.

The Sound of the Universe, Permanently ॐ

Om. Spoken as three syllables. Symbolizing the beginning, duration, and dissolution of the universe. Representing Brama, Vishnu, and Shiva. The vibration of the universe. The most beautiful sound and feeling in existence, all-encompassing and absolute.

I’ve never felt more from one symbol in my life, but as I became familiar with the om symbol, I realized how much power it holds. So, yesterday, I made it a permanent part of myself. I had drawn it out several months ago, a flowing om representing the flow of the universe, and now it has become a part of me.

photoYesterday, as I sat in the shop, I was so afraid — my first tattoo hurt so much, and I was worried I was making a mistake. But as I felt the vibration of the needle, heard its pulsing sound so close to my ear, I felt very little pain. During the more uncomfortable parts, I chanted the word, ‘aauumm’ in my head and relaxed, and I felt so peaceful, I practically forgot that I was feeling any pain at all. At one point, I felt on the verge of sleep. It was a beautiful few minutes.

I don’t want to make it more significant than it was, but I really think I had my first truly spiritual experience in that tattoo shop. As I write this, I cannot help but make the connection between the sound of the universe — the vibration of the om — and the sound and feeling of that tattoo gun.

There are so many reasons that I chose the om, more than I care to explain. But I know now how right I was in my decision.

I Don’t Have Writers Block Anymore…

Hello, my little chickadees.

I’ve decided to change the name of my blog from Writer’s Block to Cappy Writes…because, really, Writer’s Block is just bad luck, isn’t it? You can still reach my website at bymyink.wordpress.com, but you can now also get to it through cappywrites.com. Which, really, is quite fancy. And much better than the dramatic bymyink that I set up at age 16.

Again, nothing has really changed, it just might look a bit different!

I love you all. Meow.

Oh, and Happy almost-Halloween!!!