RIP Killah Cam

Friday night started off with the classiest of intentions. Friend asks me, “Hey Haley, Mass Ave has this thing the first Friday of every month where they open up all the galleries and you tour all the new exhibitions.” Perfect, right up my alley. Get over to his place, start beveraging, then realize around 8 o’clock that the Mass Ave Gallery Walk was actually 5-7:00pm and we may or may not have just drank through that culture blast. Reaction: “there’s always December” and grab another beer. Around midnight we head to a bar downtown. Circa 2:30am sufficiently inebriated, I notice my guy friends debating whether or not “blonde chick with huge fake boobs” does in fact have fake boobs. No need to debate, detective Haley will solve this mystery. Go up to “blonde chick with huge fake boobs” and say sommmething along the lines of, “Excuse me, you look great (always important to throw in a compliment there before you ask an extremely inappropriate question) but I was wondering, are your boobs real?”

“blonde chick with huge fake boobs”: Girl, YES! My boobs used to be YOUR size! No offense!

None taken. She proceeds to grab my hand, shove it down her shirt, and tell me to squeeze her boobs. Which I obviously did, and not that I have a lot of experience in the boob grabbing department, but they felt nice. Needless to say, all intentions of having a classy evening were tossed out the window at this point. If it hasn’t become apparent to my 13 followers at this point, I was in no shape to drive home at this point, so I did some couch surfing downtown.

Saturday morning: still wearing party dress, heals, tights, and leather jacket, still wearing last nights eye makeup somewhere on my face, and my head feels as if it may or may not crack in half. Time to find out how to get home immediately, put on sweat pants, and make a jacks pizza, while cuddling with blankee. This dream is only a short 20 minutes from becoming a reality...OR so I thought. While touching base with Gel (Magellen my GPS) to figure out my next move in life, I look up just in time to see Killah Cam slamming into the car in front of me. Great. Killah’s beautiful two toned front is completely smashed up, all participants in the story remain uninjured with no air bag deployment. The cop on the scene was very nice and let me sit in his car while I watched Killah being towed off into the distance.

My cab driver, Nate, provided some comical relief to the evening as he complained to one of his friends on the phone about the marathon that was going on at the time. “Man I don’t know what the hell is going on, buncha crazy people, aint got nothing to do, runnin around, blockin up the roads. People gotta go to work man! Crazy people.” I of course, egg him on and agree with everything he says. Nate got a good tip for the entertainment he was unaware of providing.

Scott and Jill, in good parenting fashion, ditched their Saturday afternoon home reconstruction projects, drove down, and saved the day. Thank you team, I love you!

RIP Killah Cam
Feb 2003-Nov 2010

Bump That Beat

In an attempt to compensate for my 2-3 days a week binge drinking sessions, I became a proud member of LA Fitness and started spinning classes. And I think it is extremely important I take the time to outline the sort characters they have teaching these classes. In two weeks I’ve experienced 4 different instructors.

1. “Let Me Ride That Donkey Donkey” My first spinning class not knowing what to expect, 30ish year old woman, with a great musical selection (which I’ve come to realize is half the battle in a successful spin class). All of a sudden she pulls the “hover” move right in the middle of 69 boys – Let Me Ride That Donkey Donkey. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CsHXl7Jc9HI ) The “hover” move requires you to stick your ass out while essentially freezing the rest of your body. Now picture 30 people of varying age ranges and varying degrees of spandex clothing doing this....I almost lost it.

2. “Ex-Marine Teenage Dreams” Yes, I do realize those two descriptions don’t typically go hand in hand, but in spinning class anything goes. Early 50s year old man, clean cut ex-marine appearance and attitude, usually starts off his class by asking the usuals if they have attended any marathons lately. The joy of Ex-Marine also comes from an eclectic musical assortment: in his class we “PUSH IT PEOPLE COME ON!” to Avril Lavigne-Sk8er Boy, Katy Perry-Teenage Dreams, Rihanna-Love the Way You Lie, and to top it all off, as a cool down song: Celine Dion-My Heart Will Go On. I had to exit the class without being properly warmed down to prevent peeing my pants.

3. “The Sneak Attack” Late 20’s, totally cute, likeable chick...until you realize her one goal in that hour is to make you feel pain. “How do you think the Kardashians got skinny people? Vomitting and SPINNING class...seriously, just kidding, but seriously.” “DON’T DISAPPOINT YOURSELF, you came here for a reason today!” “80% in the saddle...guess how much longer you have of this version of hell!? 4 MINUTES, PUSH IT!” Obviously, she is by far my favorite. Her classes are 100% packed with the highest percentage of the hard core demographic: they bring their own spinning shoes to class and snap in, wear spandex everything, and make about 1 million adjustments to their bikes before class. I’m not there YET, but give me a month.

4. Last but not least, we have “The Bro” late 30s, completely jacked, fake tan approaching Jersey Shore level, man jewelry, and a love for techno music. If you have ever seen Dodgeball with Ben Stiller (picture at top), you pretty much have this guy nailed down. He says things like “Alright bump that beat, bump that beat” And looooves to dramatically smack his rock hard abs while telling us to “engage your core and really feel that resistance here” The first class with The Bro was funny, the second class was Friday evening as I was sweating out whiskey from the previous night and I found him to be slightly less entertaining.

This week is a whole new week of spinning extravaganza, so be on the look out!