24-Hour Shitness

My exciting weekend consisted of visiting a plethora of roommate-situation dealio's, ranging from the self-confessed uptight, balding lawyer with three ungodly shrieking cockatiels in his swanky Santa Monica appartement to the 18-person commune-co-op type house in Venice where folks even slept outside in the backyard in burningman-style "Pods" covered with tarp and garbage bags. I got rejected by the nice folks who lived near SMC, but that was cool with me, because I met a supercute girlie who'll be living just steps from Venice Beach this summer.

My place of employment, which I shall not divulge just yet, happens to be pretty cool and a real winner with the potential-housies. They love that I work there and they are salivating at the thought of taking advantage of my hefty employee discount. It also helps that I throw in "surfer girl" (no lies there, see my board below, with artwork designed by yours truly) into my description and I get plenty of callbacks. Amazing. I love working for a cool company. It's like a breath of fresh air. I wake up happy each day.



On another note, the so-called "sweet boy" that I dated for two weeks belied his "sweetness" and turned out to be a major asshole. Oh, the irony that I originally wasn't too into him because he seemingly was not the asshole-type guy that I normally swoon over. Yes, a couple cries were involved (by myself, of course). I am sick of getting hurt by guys, but in the end, it's all my fault for being so vulnerable. Bad Punky! Punky Must Learn, Or Get Hurt! Dumbshit!!!!

The roommate-hunting had gotten pretty bleak (and still is, by the way) and I was approaching burnout after 3 days of non-stop action. I was stressed out and the number one remedy was a good, heart-thumping workout. So, which gym should I pick but the 24-hour Fitness at 31st and Ocean Park in Santa Monica? What pretense! What stuffiness! What ungodly body odor fumes!

After driving around 31st and Ocean Park for what seemed like hours trying to find the goddamned gym, and getting play-by-play directions from the guy at the front desk, I had to take a parking ticket to make the gate open to get into the lot. I had never validated parking in an office complex where a giant-ass gym was located. Getting my 10-day free pass was a nightmare, as they explained a thousand different pricing options for me, the cheapest of which being $100 to join and $42 a month thereafter, no contract. What a crock of bullshit.

I went to the gym to de-stress but ended up nearly having a heart attack, and I hadn't even made it into the locker room yet. Of course, the locker room was a fluorescent-lit maze of mirrors, ugly gray bathroom tile, and scales to weigh anorexic women around every corner. Blech!!! The cardio and weight rooms were okay, filled with the requisite body-builder type guys and cutesy girls. However, they were definitely very stuffy and a little too warm for my taste. And the squat cage didn't have the bar at the right level for me to do squats so I ended up just clanging the bar on as soon as I managed to hoist it up to the right height after a set of 12 squats.

So, I am totally put off by 24-Hour Shitness. Yuck yuck yuck!