I'm Not Dead. . .But A Woman at the Gym Might Be

I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while. I'm hoping someone will invent a way for me to type safely while driving my kids around. I mean, why shouldn't I have a laptop embedded in my minivan's steering wheel? It's not like I'm doing any difficult driving.

Anyway.

So the other day I was at the gym (what I really need is an elliptical trainer with an embedded laptop, then I could be skinny and a consistent blogger!), because that's what I do now. My weight loss has been slow, because well, I have to lose a lot of weight. And because I refuse to diet. So I'm still one of the bigger gals at the gym, but who cares?

No one, except for the woman I had the unfortunate experience of exercising next to the other day. At first, as she kept looking in my direction, I thought she was looking at the TV that was tuned to ESPN. Because I too would rather watch ESPN than Rachel Ray, I glanced at her, planning on smiling in a friendly way. But the woman was not looking at ESPN. She was looking at the numbers on my machine.

Now, of course I've looked at other people's incline and resistance numbers before, or checked their speed on the treadmill. I have nothing against being a nosy bitch. But I try not to let them know I'm looking, and I certainly don't sneer while I'm doing it. Not so this woman. She looked at my numbers, looked at her numbers, looked back and then upped her resistance to match mine. For real.

I went back to focusing on my magazine because sometimes I can be a little self-conscious/self-absorbed/slightly paranoid. But a few minutes later, when the harder part of my interval kicked in, I noticed her doing it again. And she was struggling. But she kept glancing at me and upping her resistance to match mine.

Have I mentioned that she completely ignored the slim woman on the other side of her? Whose resistance was much higher than mine? Apparently she just didn't want the fat chick to be stronger than she was. Or something. Everything I did, she did. She even changed her time on the machine when I switched magazines and she could see my time.

I suddenly saw my 13 year old self, being okay with the acknowledged school genius beating me on a test but flipping out when someone I didn't think was so smart beat me. And instead of saying something to the competitive woman I gave her the same "bless your bitchy, immature heart - I really pity you" smile I would have given to my 13 year old self.

Next time, though? I'm totally tripping her.

Things Not To Say Around Me

There are a lot of phrases that can piss me off.

"Name calling is no big deal." (Nah, it's just a form of bullying and we all know that's not a problem today.)

"Sarah Palin says. . . ." (She's IGNORANT. And a hypocrite who actually does get state support and health care for a kid and a grandkid.)

"She was asking for it." (Unless she said, "Will you have sex with me?" she wasn't asking for it.)

"Teaching kids about birth control will make them have sex." (Well, a lot of them already are having sex, so why not let them be safe? And do you really think the ones who have chosen not to for moral reasons are going to jump right into it because they can do it without getting pregnant or AIDS?)

"Well, the Bible tells us that homosexuality is wrong." (It also says lying, drunkenness  and premarital sex are equally wrong - care to condemn those with the same brush?)

And today's personal favorite, "I'm not a feminist, but . . ."

Usually the "but" is followed by some feminist tenet like equal pay for equal work or praise for a gutsy woman like Kathryn Bigelow. It makes me want to scream. Unless you are one of those uber-Christians who take the Bible literally in EVERY aspect (not just the aspects you like) Quiverfull people or a Taliban member, you have no reason not to call yourself a feminist.

A feminist is a person who supports feminism, which Merriam-Webster defines as:

1 : the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes
2 : organized activity on behalf of women's rights and interests

— fem·i·nist \-nist\ noun or adjective

— fem·i·nis·tic \ˌfe-mə-ˈnis-tik\ adjective

What part of that scares people? It doesn't say you have to hate men, be pro-choice, be a lesbian, work outside the home, skip make-up, hate sex or whatever other stereotypes are  out there. You just have to believe that women are equal to men - that your daughters deserve the same educational opportunities as your sons, that your boss can't grab your ass and laugh about it, that your vote counts just as much as anyone else's, that you should earn the same pay for doing the same job and that you are equal partners in your relationship.

Is there anyone reading my blog who doesn't believe that?

Well, then, welcome feminists! Who wants a margarita?