denva.

Aside from the fact that this is arguably the greatest city on Earth and everybody (and their dog... literally, because you're truly not a Denverite without a dog. I'm still trying to get accepted based on my little cat weakness...) should move here, I only have one complaint, then I'll move on. Yesterday, April 23, 2010, it SNOWED. Uh huh, not just like a little flake here and there like a semi-normal springtime flurry, but it was full-on white-out business. Double U tee eff. I know I know, I moved to the mountains and am supposed to just expect this BS, but really? They say April showerzzz for a reason... to be cute about rainstorms, not snowstorms. With that being said, it took about 30 minutes for the sun to retaliate and Denver was back on track with perfection. Thank you, baby Jesus. My office actually closed yesterday at 2:00, but being the staunch over achiever that occasionally I am (that was a little oxymoronic, but you get my point), I stayed until 5:30 like a good little HR/Risk Coordinator would/should. I talked to a few of the VPs throughout that time who told me to go home, but I feel like I earned some real street cred when I told them that I had to stay to get some top secret things done for my superimportant job. Clearly I should have just said, "You're more than welcome to go home, Sir, I'll gladly assume your duties. As you should know, I was born to sit behind a mahogany desk surrounded by statues and original works of art." Because let's be real here, as the HR Ball Girl, I'm just riding the fence (or ball) between admin and exec. I just need the wind to start blowing the right direction. Somebody get this girl a secretary.

So today I woke up with a nice little hangover (thank you, Wash Park Tavern and new friends who drink as fast as I do) and reluctantly drove down to the 24 Hr Fitness on Alameda to burn off the BL Limes (mmmbeer). I've been told before that this is the 24 Hr that is typically thought of as the gateway gym to other 24 Hrs... i.e. people don't stay there for a reason. Wellwellwell, I do all that I can to avoid this gym in particular for a few reasons, but decided to go anyway because I didn't feel like running outside in case I had to hurl in a few bushes. Anyway, my reasons are:

1. When you walk in, you literally have to swim through a moist (hate that word) cloud of human sweat, body heat and bad breath... even on the hottest day of the year I guarantee their windows will still be dripping with sweaty condensation. Delicious...

2. I've never heard so many grunts and arrrrggggghhhhhs and panting in my life. This actually is incentive for me to go there because I get a week's worth of giggling in. Truly I don't think there's any other way to react to a grunter than to look him in the eye, then turn my head and laugh. If anyone else has a better strategy, I'm all ears...

3. Short shorts. No no we're not talking about Nair Short Shorts... I'm talking about shortmanshorts. They're typically paired with a nice tiny tank to show off their bulging biceps, triceps, abs (or more often, beer bellies), delts and lats, which all go hand-in-hand with a raunchy display of manthighs, bird legs, or thunderous calves. I was on the rowing machine a few weeks ago and a man sat down on the machine next to me who was wearing the world's shortest shorts and a baby tee. This guy was just begging for a slapintheface, but clearly would have preferred a nice little booty love tap if you know what I mean. I would have erred with the former in his case. Next thing I know, he's mounting the machine, putting his feet in the stirrups and it's off to the races... I'll let your imagination chew on that one (he actually strongly resembled the villain in Charlie's Angels who pulls Lucy Liu's hair out and smells it... ew). I think I nearly bit a hole through my lip trying not to smile. I only lasted about 3 more minutes before I had to switch machines. I'd be a terrible poker player.

4. I've been told some, uh, "men's locker room stories" that I'd rather have remained naive about. That's all I feel comfortable saying about that.

5. I guarantee only 20% of the people in there have washed their hands. And Laaawwwd only knows where those hands have been (refer to #4 if you're at a loss for ideas on that one).

6. It's the most stereotypical mating ground I've ever stepped foot into. Some days I intentionally look like hell to see what kind of looks I will (or won't) get. This game is clearly the little psychologist in me, but it's super fun and I highly recommend it. What I just luuurrrv is seeing people walk in who you know just spent at least an hour in preps to look their best (both men and women). Call me crazy, but when I go to a gym the two last things I'm interested in doing are hitting on someone or being hit on, mostly because I'm a Stage 14 sweater. Throw this girl on a freaking ab machine and I'll be dripping after 30 seconds... don't even get me started on treadmillz and ellipticalz. Maybe I should start requesting my own private workout facility. Wow, Melissa, this is really attractive...

Moving on... After my workout, I ran home to shower and change, then headed off to my new (and favorite) hair salon for an appointment with Tiffany. Tiff and I quickly became besties and let me tell you... girlfriend knows how to do some hurr. Right now I feel like a real life rockstar, which anyone who knows me even a little bit can tell you that that's my secret life goal. I still have time... maybe I'll do karaoke tonight and will get discovered... omigod tomorrow I could be the next Joan Jett. Too bad I verrrrry rarely allow myself to do karaoke.

And now I'm sitting in Peet's Coffee Shop in Cherry Creek, freezing my tail feathers off under an air vent as I'm looking outside and wondering why I'm not soaking up some Vitamin D right now. Even though it snowed yesterday, the sun decided to get its sh*t together today and is gracing us with its presence. Once again, thank you baby Jesus.

The things people talk about in coffee shops are way too funny for real life. Sure, sir, I'd love to hear about your recent weight gain and prostate health. Oh, and yeah girl, you totally should not have slept with him and that other girl really izzz such a ho. And ohhhh maaaahhhhh gaaawwwwddd congratulations you two! Let me see the raaang! Girrrrl thas a goood lookin' rock! Mmmhmm yo man's got some coin. (From one white girl to another, it's only appropriate to talk like that in certain situations because as we all know, white girls are expected to be uptight/proper/well-spoken... well, we didn't all get that memo, did we?)

Tonight I'm going to Fort Collins and for the record, good behavior is not allowed. Bring. It. On.