My Fatal Flaw, by Ephram Brown

The more things change, the more they stay the same. I'm not sure who the first person was who said that. Probably Shakespeare. Or maybe Sting. But at the moment, it's the sentence that best explains my tragic flaw: my inability to change.

I don't think I'm alone in this. The more I get to know other people, the more I realize it's kind of everyone's flaw. Staying exactly the same for as long as possible, standing perfectly still... It feels safer somehow. And if you are suffering, at least the pain is familiar. Because if you took that leap of faith, went outside the box, did something unexpected... Who knows what other pain might be out there, waiting for you. Chances are it could be even worse.

So you maintain the status quo. Choose the road already traveled and it doesn't seem that bad. Not as far as flaws go. You're not a drug addict. You're not killing anyone... Except maybe yourself a little.

When we finally do change, I don't think it happens like an earthquake or an explosion, where all of a sudden we're like this different person. I think it's smaller than that. The kind of thing most people wouldn't even notice unless they looked at us really close. Which, thank God, they never do.

But you notice it. Inside you that change feels like a world of difference. And you hope this is it. This is the person you get to be forever... that you'll never have to change again.

Our Coffee House Conversations #1: Bally's Pilates Exercise thing

Well, I promised I'd come back and talk about the exercise stuff I got for my birthday. So here I am. In it self it doesn't sound very interesting, and yes, there are plenty more interesting things going on in my life, however this has been a *cough* sore spot *cough* for over a week.

Now, let's make this more fun, imagine you're at a great little coffee shop, and we're at a table for two, with the window next to us. We're watching people walk by and giggling about the lady with her little boy on a leash. Then, I lean over my double mochachino (As if I actually know what they're called. I'm not a coffee shop girl, I'm a gas station cappuchino machine girl. Shut up.)

As I was saying, I lean over my double mochachino towards you and whisper, "Guess what I bought with that money my aunt sent me for my birthday?"

You, expecting something embarassing or, even better, dirty, lean forward over whatever your coffee of choice is and say, "What?"

"A Bally Total Fitness Pilates Exercise Thing."

"A what?"

Well, let me explain better. Yes, it's a horribly long name. Bally Total Fitness is a gym, as you may know (Go to their site!) Pilates is a type of exercise program that's all the rage right now. You may have seen the ads for Windsor Pilates on the television. Now, what I have is this stretchy bungi cord thingy that supposedly helps. I don't really know, I guess it does kind of, maybe it makes you more stable. Whatever. Basically it's like two jump ropes with handles for your hands and feet to go in and a plastic tubey thing holding the two cords together in the center. Moving on.

Now that I've explained how it looks to you, you will of course ask "Well, how does it work?"

I giggle and lean closer, "Well I put the handles on my feet over my sneakers and lie on the floor with the other handles in my hands." I giggle again. "Then I put my feet flat on the floor, kind of like I'm at the gyno." We giggle together because gyno is a funny word. "Then I bring my legs straight up in the air, with my arms out at my sides. Then I exercise." I giggle again and you look confused but giggle anyways.

"Exercise how?"

"Well I spread my legs into a V, and then back straight and then a V." We giggle. "It's like a lighthouse for men."

We snicker for another moment until you calm down and we both lean back in our seats, sipping our coffee.

"Is that all?" You ask with an eyebrow raised.

"Well no, there's other exercises. But that's my favorite."

"Dirty!" You exclaim in a perfect imitation of Lorelai Gilmore. We giggle and I lean forward.

"There's lots more. The Scissors, The Bicycle, etc. They hurt though."

"Hurt how?"

"Well the day after my first time my legs felt funny and my stomach ached."

"Mine did too sweetie."

I slap at you, "Not like that you filthy mind."

We laugh out loud and people in the cafe look at us.

"My muscles hurt." I clairfied, trying to save my dignity and swearing to never discuss anything with you in public again.

"So it works?" You raise a skeptically eyebrow as I nod. "Hmph. I'll believe that when I see it."

"Fine." I pout. "You just wait, I'm going to lose weight and you're not!" We giggle at my indignantness and I glance at my watch. "Oh crap."

"What?" you ask.

"I have to go meet a friend for coffee." You look pointedly at your coffee cup and point to yourself. "A different friend."

"Wow, you'll be caffinated."

I shrug and down the rest of my coffee then gather my things. "I can sleep when I'm dead. See you later."

I breeze out of the cafe and you're left staring after me to wonder who I'm going to now. Which fabulous friend am I meeting. You giggle when you remember our conversation.

Life is funny.

Check this link out: LINK

Why Girls Are Weird, and other things in my life.

I recently bought the book Why Girls Are Weird By Pamela Ribon. You may know her as Pamie whom writes the recaps for Gilmore Girls on Television Without Pity.

It was such a good book. It was funny, and honest and it's the reason I'm writing. I felt guilty about neglecting my poor blog. I guess the truth is I haven't really had much to say lately.

It's getting cold here. Although I'm told it's just me. What does that mean anyways "It's just you." Who cares if you're not cold. The point is I am and I'm sure there's someone else here that is as well (In fact. I know so. My new friend is probably as cold as I am seeing as I saw him wearing three layers of clothing last time I saw him. His regular clothes, a hoodie, and a puffy down jacket. I was only wearing a turtleneck sweater, I wished I had his puffy down jacket though. Okay this parentheses thingy is getting nuts, closing now.)

I got exercisy stuff for my birthday and I would tell you about it, but I think I'll save that story for another day. Let my material last you know. Give it time to breathe. However, speaking of exercisy stuff. I saw an article in the paper today about this woman who uses an exercise ball instead of a chair at work. Apparently a lot of people do it because it helps them get in a workout and makes them think about their posture since there's no back or anything. Pretty interesting I guess.

Okay, I'm going to go sleep now. You guys do the same.