That Awkward Moment When You Have to Steal Your Own Stuff

I am painfully aware that I have not written on this for quite some time now, mostly because I was being lazy and because I couldn't think of anything that seemed worth writing about. Anyways I've decided it might be fun to try and write something again, so here goes...I will tell you a tale of my summer time adventures.

I go to the gym on a regular basis, like almost daily if I am not in the mood for running. Sometimes I just don't want to run, or sometimes something hurts and I can't run, so I go to the gym. The gym I go to is located Downtown. They get a lot of business people who work Downtown, as well as people like me who just want to go to a gym that has actual lockers and showers. They also provide scholarship money for people who cannot afford a membership, which is cool. Most of the gyms in this town are the 24hr fitness centers that have little cubbies to put your stuff in, and you have to drive home all sweaty and gross because they don't have showers....that's not really my thing, so I am particularly fond of the gym I go to, mainly because of the showers.

Anyways, when I go to the gym, I generally put my clothes and all my valuables in one of the lockers provided for day use and obviously lock it so no one steals my stuff. I leave my gym bag containing my shampoo, conditioner, mousse, deodorant, hair brush, etc out, and I put that above my locker. My thinking on this being, there isn't really a whole lot of room in the lockers for my giant gym bag, and if someone really needs shampoo or conditioner or whatever that bad, then they are welcome to use them, and I won't be out too much money ya know? Of course I don't want people touching, using, or taking my stuff, but it's not going to be a hardship to me if one of those things goes missing.

So, one day, when I went to gym, I went about my normal routine with putting my stuff in my locker and my gym bag above the locker...like I have been doing for over four years now without any problems! Then I proceed to go and workout. When I come back to the locker room when my workout is finished, I notice that my gym bag is not quite in the spot I left it. It is above the locker next to mine, not above my locker like I left it. This is not unusual, as sometimes people accidentally bump your stuff, or they're rude and just want to move it out of their own way. I hate when people touch my stuff. Most people are aware that it is not ok to touch and or move other peoples' belongings in the locker room. It's a freaking code, just don't do it!

So this is not unusual, though not common by any means, so, slightly annoyed, I proceed to get ready for my shower. When I go to get my shampoo and conditioner out one of the pockets of my gym bag, I have the unpleasant discovery that they are not there. They are always there...in the same pocket. They only come out of the pocket when they are being used, and then they go straight back into the pocket. Someone has stolen my things! The nerve!

I just stood there, slightly flabbergasted, for a few moments, trying to determine how I was going to proceed with my shower if I didn't have shampoo. The confusion then mutated into anger and resentment. Who did this kind of thing anyway? The sense of violation I had was overwhelming, and it was just shampoo and conditioner, things that were easily replaced. I can't imagine how I would feel if it was something more valuable that was stolen.

I decided to check my pocket one more time in the vain hope that somehow my hygiene products would magically reappear in their proper gym bag pocket. While I was doing this, a woman walked into my little section of the locker room and put her shampoo and conditioner down on the bench in front of me where I was once again frantically trying to find my shampoo and conditioner. She was using the locker right next to the one I was using. I looked up briefly as she set down the shampoo and conditioner in front of me, and guess the fuck what! They were my shampoo and conditioner! I know this because my shampoo and conditioner rarely ever match. I always end up with two different kinds because somehow my shampoo always gets used up first, so I have to go buy another one. When I do this, I usually buy one that smells different from the one I had before, thus no longer matching the conditioner I have. So I generally end up with a shampoo for more volume or something and a conditioner for dry hair or whatever. Anyways, the point being, these were my Goddamn products!

I decided to give the lady a little grace, so I say "Oh gee, did I take these out of my bag and forget that I set them there? I'm so spacey sometimes."

Her response was, "Oh no. Them were in my locker. They mine."

I was a little angry at this response, and I wasn't ready to give up on my things. "Really? Because they are the exact same kind that I use, and mine are missing from my bag."

"Nope. They was in my bag. They mine."

At this point I was really annoyed and angry. You have the nerve to steal my stuff, and then put that stuff down in front of me and say it was yours all along? WTF!?! However, for whatever reason, I am not the kind of person who can just come out and say "I know you stole my stuff, and now I want it back, so hand it over." For whatever reason, I just can't seem to cause a scene, even when it may be necessary. I don't know why I am like this. I wish I was better at just saying what comes to mind, but that's not how I am, and it is damn infuriating sometimes. So, I just looked her in the eyes and glared, my feeble attempt to communicate "I know what you did, and I'm not happy about it. So there!" I then proceeded to march myself off to the showers and use the soap the gym provides for members to use. I hate using it though because to me, it smells like vomit, and I never feel clean after using it. But, today I don't really have a choice, as I was drenched in sweat when I was done with my work out and it had now dried all over me, making me feel crusty and gross. I used the vomit soap and go back to my locker to get dressed.

When I returned to my locker, the shampoo stealer was not there anymore. She had gone off to dry her hair. Her locker, however, was open, and her stuff was still in there. I decided to peak in and see if I could see my stuff. Sure enough, when I looked in, there in a bright pink bag, was my shampoo and conditioner. In fact not only my shampoo and conditioner were in there. My hair mousse, my deodorant, and my body lotion were all in there too! I decided I was going to be rash and steal my stuff back.

I have never been more terrified in my life! While I was taking my stuff from her, I was so afraid she was going to walk around the corner and see me stealing my stuff. If this happened, a scene would be caused, and there would be no going back. People would have to get involved. She was a much larger woman than me, and there was no doubt in my mind that she could snap me in half with little effort.  My heart was racing so fast I thought for sure, despite all the exercise I do to prevent such a thing, I was going to have a heart attack and die with my stolen back shampoo clutched in my hands. I was shaking like a leaf.

Once my stuff was safely in bag where it belonged, I dressed as fast as I could and booked it out of there. I didn't even brush my hair. I just got out as fast as I could. I'm sure I looked like a crazy hobo woman or something with my snarled hair and clothes haphazardly thrown onto my body, but I had my stuff back. Victory. I was still terrified she was going to come out and chase after me, demanding I return the things I stole, or break me in half.

When I got home, I was still shaking from all the adrenaline and the fear of being caught. Never again will I steal anything. I didn't fully recover for another few hours after returning home, after my husband politely told me that maybe I needed a drink or something. This is why I will never be a criminal. 

On Being Atheist

I'd like to preface this blog with a statement that most of the time I'm fairly certain I am not an atheist.  I am quite aware that this subject is taking quite a different turn from what I normally write on here. However, the other day I had a friend tell me that her boyfriend accused her of being an atheist because she did not want to go to church on that particular day. This statement really hurt and offended her because she considers herself a Christian. While I can understand why she was hurt by this, I also do not see why being called an atheist is really so offensive.

The word atheist is thrown out there like some kind of dark mark on a person, like calling someone an atheist means they are worse than someone who murders puppies for a living. As though an atheist is a person with no moral values who is like to do some of the most criminal and dark things one can imagine. Simply because one does not believe in God, one is considered worse than a killer or something. All I really have to say to this is What The FUCK!??! Really?

My husband, the most kind and caring man I have ever met, is an atheist. This is not something he came to easily. He was raised to believe in God, but was forever asking questions of why, and he finally came to the very hard conclusion that God did not exist. Just because he does not believe in God does not make him any less of a fulfilled person than someone who does believe in God. He is more willing to help people without being asked than most Christian people I know. He genuinely wants the best for people. Why does being an atheist make him seem like a horrible person in the eyes of others then?

I mean, some of the Christians I know are the most judgmental hateful people I have ever met. They use the Bible as an excuse to keep their prejudices and bigotry because God says it is supposed to be a certain.(First of all, God did not write the fucking Bible, a bunch men did, and even if you say oh he was there influencing what they wrote, don't you think they still snuck in some of their prejudices and beliefs?) If God told you to jump off a bridge would you? Probably you would because after all it is God who is talking right. Would you ask "Why God, why do you want me to jump off this bridge? Is it to prove that I believe in you? Is it to save an innocent life, or is it because you are on a fucking power trip?" Would you ask, or would you just do it? My husband asked questions, and he did not get satisfactory answers, so he did not jump off the God damned bridge.

Maybe you are concerned about where your soul will go after you die, so this is why you believe in God. While it is nice to believe that there is some sort of life after death, there really is no proof. What if we all just die, and there is nothing there. Our souls are gone, and we rot and turn to dust. I honestly think it is kind of a beautiful thing to imagine my body becoming part of the earth to be used again by something else, to be part of the soil, the wind, and the rain. Is there something weak or wrong about a person who believes this? I think it takes a lot of bravery to say to yourself, "I don't think there is life after death, but I'm ok with that, so I'm just going to live now and be happy."

I guess what I am trying to say is that the word atheist has a lot of stigma behind it. Some people use it as an almost swearword like insult. I don't really think it is an insult. I think it is a compliment. It is like saying, you are free enough to make your own life decisions, that you really thought about things, and this is the conclusion you came to. It is like saying I am not a sheep who follows blindly, but a person who goes their own way. I mean really. How do we know our God is the true god? The ancient Egyptians, the Romans, the ancient Greeks, and others all believed there gods were real, and now we laugh at that. Who is going to be laughing at us thousands of years from now? Why don't you ask questions?

Anorexic Bitches

Anorexic bitches, yeah, you read that right. Why am I writing about anorexic bitches you may ask? Well in truth, I'm really not. I'm really writing about people who insist that those suffering from anorexia are bitches.My first thought was along the lines of "Why would you call someone suffering from a disease a bitch?" Well? Why would you? I have only ever heard other women call people suffering from anorexia bitches. My guess would be along the lines of women are jealous of each other. There is such pressure in this society for a woman to be thin that she sees another woman who is thinner than her and immediately wants to attain that level of skinny. If she can't become that thin, then that other woman is a bitch anyway, so what does it matter? I compare myself to other people more often than I like to admit. It's not healthy, but it's something I feel as though I was trained to do (maybe by myself, maybe not) somewhere in life.

This leads to another question. Do you really know what it is like to have anorexia? Do ya? I know many women suffer from eating disorders, but to be jealous of them seems a bit ridiculous. Just a little info for ya. Your whole freaking life is consumed by food and by all the ways you can avoid eating it. You think about food all the time. What will you eat today? What time will you eat? Make sure you do not eat the whole thing. Eat slowly to enjoy the flavor and to be sure you know when you are "full". What do you have to do to burn those calories off? Run three miles? Walk five miles? Pace around the dining room table for a half hour? Oh do you smell those cookies? They smell sooooo goooood! I think I will just sit here and smell them. That way I can almost taste them. There is no room in your life for anything other than not eating food, thinking about food, and trying to find a way to burn off the calories you consumed. Oh and weighing yourself, so you can see the little numbers on the scale that will either make or break your entire day. NOTHING! Does that sound like fun to you? Oh, you are a half a pound heavier tonight than you were this morning? Now you are depressed for the rest of the night, and you have to go run five miles to make up for that half a pound. You should really be jealous of women who have this problem. Really. You should.That sounds like one fun obsession.

So you see, this is really a miserable way to live. Don't you want to have fun? Don't you want to be able to focus on your significant other, your family, your friends, your pets, your hobbies? There are so many things that you have in your eating-disorder-free life. All that women with anorexia have is a number on a scale to make them happy. They are stuck on this mental hamster wheel that they cannot get off without help from people who are kind enough not to see them as bitches, but as human beings who have a disease and need help. So grow the fuck up and start trying to be a little more compassionate.