August 11, 2005

You don't wanna step to this.

Exercise is boring. To remedy that, I have decided to make a "Dance, Bitches!" mix CD which will have crazy dance songs to which I can dance like a crazy person. When no one is home. I'll get sweaty and uncoordinated with my bad self.

Here's the play list. If you want a copy, e-mail me with your snail-mail address and I will send you a mix CD forthwith. If forthwith = before the end of the year.

Dance, Bitches!

Sweat - C&C Music Factory
Switch - Will Smith
Replay - Rihanna
Unbelievable - EMF
Holla Back Girl - Gwen Stefani
Tailfeather - Sean Puff Diddy Puffy Spiffy Whatever Combs
Would I Lie to You - Eurythmics
Wear My Hat - Phil Collins
You Should Be Dancing - Bee Gees
Smooth Criminal - Alien Ant Farm
Labor Day (It's a Holiday) - Black Eyed Peas (aka: "Let's get retarded.")
Headsprung - LL Cool J
Do Ya Think I'm Sexy - N-Trance
I Just Wanna Live - Good Charlotte
Move Your Body - Nina Sky
Cold Hard Bitch - Jet
Thoia Thoing - R. Kelly
Groove is in the Heart - Dee Lite
Sandstorm - Darude
It Feels So Good - Sonique
One More Time - Daft Punk
Seven Nation Army - Punk Division
Hella Good - No Doubt

There. That's over an hour of some good sweatin' and bad dancin'. Lo, the calories shall be shed! Some of the songs might use a curse word or two, though, so if you're sensitive to that kind of thing you might want to pass on getting a copy.

I love Calvin. I really, really do. All of his little quirks and idiosyncrasies, for the most part, either endear him to me or amuse the hell out of me. One weirdness of his, though, has got me completely puzzled.

I'm Old Navy's whore - you all know that. My closet contains very few items from any other store (well, almost all of my jeans are from American Eagle - when I find something that works, I damn well stick with it). Recently, I placed an order on-line - I'm lucky in that Old Navy is very consistent with their sizing, so every item from every order has fit me just fine. I started feeling guilty for the whole me-me-me of the order, so I bought Calvin a bunch of T-shirts, button-downs, and a couple of pairs of jeans.

The order arrived, and I had a gleeful hour of trying on, squee-ing, taking off, and hanging up. I piled Calvin's new clothes on the bed and said, "I got those for you."

He took a brief glance from his seat at the computer, grunted, and said, "I don't need them. Take 'em back."

?!?

First of all. Need?? Since when did "need" have anything to do with buying clothes?

But wait, it gets better. "Can you just try on the jeans? I really want to see how they look on you."

"I don't wear anything but 501's." Levi's, which are all fine and good, but I think it would be fun to get him into a pair of trendy jeans. He has absolutely, flat-out, very pointedly refused. And he's not budging. This is the man who chose an outfit with a linen and silk vest to wear to work when he had a position that required the suit-and-tie routine. Which looked excellent on him, and was certainly a departure into the unknown for his sense of style. Which, I must say, is usually right on the money.

But these jeans, man. It's just weird. He won't even try them on. I think he's afraid to, because he might like them. See? And also, see?

It's beyond my ability to comprehend.

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©Laura Charon 2000 - infinity.