A Letter to My Personal Trainer

Hi! I am writing you this letter in hopes that you will find me hilarious and then you'll like me and probably not want to yell at me and/or make comments about how fat I am. This also seems like a good opportunity to warn you about my personal workout quirks. Firstly, you should not take the fact that I joined the Gym and just threw out the term "workout" all casual-like as an indication that I'm a Gym Person. I don't much enjoy feeling the burn or paying for gain with pain or running. I have also noticed that working out has a horrible return on investment. For example on Friday I did 30 minutes on the elliptical machine and apparently only burned 235 calories. Do you have any idea how many pieces of pumpkin pie I could eat in 30 minutes?

When you called last week to confirm our appointment I was glad that you were a dude. I had this fear that you'd be a girl exactly my height who weighed 50lbs less then me and who would say things like, "See my thighs? Yours are a lot bigger." I am still hoping that you are gay so that you can occasionally compliment my ass in a totally nonthreatening sort of way.

I am super not interested in being weighed at the gym. I lost 40lbs a few years ago and since then regularly weigh myself at home but I fear using a new scale which could show me as heavier and that could cause me to have a break down here in the gym. I would probably cry and that would probably be embarrassing for both of us so let's just stay away from the scale. I lost my weight through a diet I invented called "I Have a Very Acute Sense of Personal Guilt." Basically I wrote down everything I ate and felt so badly about eating fattening things that I eventually learned to avoid them. I never increased my exercise though I am naturally a "if it's only 3 subways stops away you might as well walk" kind of girl.

Despite all of my stated fears that you will make moo-ing noises at me while I stumble my way through a step routine I don't really think I'm fat. I just think that Gym People have ridiculous standards. Most of my fear of fat stems from the fact that I gained about 10lbs this summer and am having a tortuous time trying to lose it. This has lead to daily hallucinations in which I wake up one morning suddenly so fat that I can't actually fit through the door of my bedroom. On the bright side I don't usually keep food in my bedroom so this could turn into the most effective diet regime ever.

The main problem I have is that I really like food. Have you noticed how delicious it is? Here is a brief list of a few things that I very much wish I was eating right now: salt and vinegar potato chips, won ton soup, Greek yogurt with honey and almonds, pasta with really spicy sausage and broccoli, heirloom tomato salad with fresh mozzarella, Ben and Jerry's coffee coffee buzz buzz ice cream, left over thanksgiving stuffing, blue cheese with the black truffle honey that they make at Otto... I could go on. You'll note that I am not eating any of those things right now which is a sign of my incredible self control. If denying yourself food burned calories I would weigh 4 lbs.

I suppose you're going to ask me what my goals are. Gym people probably answer this question with things like "get a six pack!" or "run a marathon" or "work it." Mostly I want to eat more yummy food without getting fat. I would also like to avoid getting older and having some doctor say, "you have a life threatening disease that could have been prevented by doing a few sit ups 3 years ago." I would also like to find a way to see working out as fun. I know other people speak of this mythical feeling that washes over them post workout (perhaps it's in the sweat?) but though I promise I have done plenty of sweating I have never experienced this. I suspect the whole workout high thing is like magic eye posters -- i.e. a vast conspiracy maintained by all of humanity only to make fun of me. Would I like to be stronger, or more toned, or able to leap tall building in a single bound? Of course, but I need to be realistic. I will likely only make it to the gym 3 times in a good week. I will likely only stay for 30-45 minutes. I will likely behave as if this makes me some sort of martyr/hero combo pack.

Can we work together or shall I find the nearest Korean yogurt to drown my sorrows in (only 90 calories!)?

A Memorandum on Product Quality

As many of our loyal readers have likely noticed the quality of writing here at Random Access Babble (RAB, Inc.) has diminished over the last few months to the point of "sucking a whole fucking lot." For those of you who doubt this claim please just continue reading; this post is actually a fabulous example of how awful our writing has become.

We want to assure you that at RAB we consider content quality a serious issue, one that we respond to almost as quickly as J Crew sales, free ice cream and any opportunity picture Tim Riggens shirtless. In that spirit we have begun taking steps to respond to the overall crappiness that has descended upon this site and are happy to share these steps with you, our loyal supporters.

We have reached out to Underworld, Inc. to apply for their standard soul exchange program. Unfortunately, in these trying times, the company is overwhelmed with offers and we have thus far been unable to secure a meeting. It appears that the market is saturated with daemons running around hocking high quality Jewish, Muslim, Christian and even the once rare Mormon souls. As a result atheist souls have plummeted in value. We are considering adopting a religion in an effort to increase the value of our soul but are sad to report that this will be a lengthy process. Most religions require a lengthy waiting period before souls are officially acknowledged as converted. Readers should also be aware that religious conversion rarely results in an improved sense of humor so it is, unfortunately, highly likely that things will get worse before they get better.

We know that many of our investors have bought into the rumors that our merger with Boyfriend Limited is the main cause of diminished quality here at RAB. We want to assure you that we hear your concerns and while there is some merit to these claims we consider Boyfriend a long term investment that will only increase the value of RAB products over time. While the early stages of the merger have been riddled with rainbows, googly eyes, and mush, all of which have proven worthless in the humor writing industry, we know Boyfriend well and fully expect him to fuck up lots of future shit. Furthermore, if things continue to progress with Boyfriend we anticipate such shenanigans as Cohabitation, Procreation and eventually Widowing all of which are ripe for the kind of tragedy that RAB has historically turned into mega profits.

Like so many modern businesses RAB is facing budgetary concerns. It is increasingly more difficult to produce the kind of hilarious shit you people expect on a budget of mere compliments. As always the most effective way for you to increase the quality of posts here at RAB is to send us a big fat check. We promise to squander these riches on "life experiences" that are sure to result in hilarity.

In closing we want to assure you that RAB has no intention of throwing an internet fit and declaring our retirement. We made a commitment years ago to running this thing into the ground and we fully intend to keep that promise. Regardless of quality you can rest assured that this URL will continue to host words and sentences and, occasionally, whole paragraphs.

Sincerely,
Brianna
CEO RAB Inc.

In Case You're Wondering I Still Don't Own a Wii

Dear Nintendo,

Hi, How’s it going? I’m taking time to write to you today because I am a huge fan of your work, especially the work that involves a certain impish little plumber and also pretty much everything else. I have plenty of time to devote to writing this little piece of fandom because it’s not like I have any video games to play at home since apparently you have to be some sort of Svengali to acquire your latest technology despite the fact that “latest” in this context means “released over a year ago.” I realize that you may have initially chosen to under-manufacture your product in an effort to drive up demand and I respect your attempts to fiddle with the cogs of capitalism in this way but I am now wondering if the “increased demand leads to increased supply” principal has made if over the Pacific to Japan. It is time to solve this problem because seriously every time I so much as start talking about it with someone I get so angry that I consider punching things and normally when I need to do some punching I turn to video games but obviously that is not an option.

When the main routes to obtaining your product involve a sleeping bag and intimate contact between NYC sidewalks and my head or winning some sort of ill conceived radio contest which may or may not result in the death of most of your customer base I think it is clear that you have a project management problem. Luckily, I can help. You see I am naturally suited to organizing things and nagging people and, in emergency situations, bribery. Below I’ve detailed how things would go if you hired me to manage manufacturing and distribution of the Wii. You’ll notice that this plan ends with you making money which, I am assuming is a goal for your company. You may not be aware of this but typically you make more money if you sell your product to people as opposed to your current system which seems to consist of me waving money in your direction and you turning your nose up like you smelled a particularly bad fart.

1. You give me a Wii and set of all available games, controllers and do-dads so that I can be properly informed about the product that I now manage. I will probably need roughly a month of uninterrupted product research to complete this initial stage in my master plan.
2. You start making more Wiis. Way more then the estimated 13 daily that you now produce apparently by a team of highly trained snow leopards who build them by hand (paw?). Choosing an endangered species to construct your console, while certainly an innovative way too maintain product secrets, was probably your biggest business blunder. I would institute an assembly line based factory where humans operate huge machines capable of producing at least 300 units a day (probably more).
3. You ship the Wiis to stores. Specifically stores that intend to sell the product to consumers. I would recommend stores that sell other electronics and gaming products. Stocking Wiis at funeral parlors and grocery stores would be a lower priority but ultimately a long term goal.
4. Build pool, fill with gold coins, get naked, go swimming.

I hate to toot my own horn but I have to say that this is a rather brilliant plan and that my services are an awesome deal since I will consider being paid in games and sushi (both of which I’m pretty sure you already have lying around but if, by chance, there is some sort of games and/or sushi availability problem I think I’m up to the task of solving that one for you as well). Anyway, let me know soon if you’re interested or if you’d rather just continue disappointing fans until everyone ditches you for Playstation even though their product is both more expensive and more sucky.

Brianna

Dear 1995 Me

Stealing this idea from Peter...

Hi, it's me, you, blogging from 2007. I promise that is a good thing and I am very famous and important. And hot.

Sooooooo.... You need to chill out. No, Seriously. It is not that bad. I don't even need to know what exactly you're freaking out about right now (and really who can keep up?) to be 100% confident that you need to let it go. I'm going to take a minor leap and guess this has to do with your hair. You have curly hair. Why you are just discovering this at 17 I do not know but feel free to blame denial, having a mother with very little concern for appearances and/or the incredibly dry weather in eastern California. Anyway you have two options – straightening or scrunching. Do not expect hair stylists to help you out, they will forever stare at your head in confusion. Straightening is more reliable but scrunching is faster, both are a gamble. I know, we hate uncertainty, consider this just another way that god is fucking with you.

You should probably let go of being embarrassed that you had an unrequited crush on Cameron in 4^th grade because no one else cares. Ditto the fact that you wore hot pink overalls in your 6^th grade school picture.

While we’re on the topic of you relaxing here’s another thing. This is going to be hard to believe but you really need to get laid more. Or some. How about once and we take it from there? I know you think that sex is a big mistake unless you have some guarantee that you will totally be dating this boy long term but it terms out that’s actually not really true at all. The slutty girls? Kind of have a good thing going. I mean you know, love yourself, you’re awesome, you don’t need boys, I KNOW. But sometimes (as in all of the time) you take things too far. While we’re on this topic you should also drink more. Really you’re kind of a prude. (No, you are not pregnant)

Ok, on to the good news. EVERYONE cool in 2007 hated high school (ok, except for your friend Amy but you consider this a flaw on HER part.). June 7 1996 == Freedom. (oh, right about that double equals… you kind of go down this computer science path and it turns out pretty well but I am, perhaps, *slightly* geekier than you had expected. Don’t worry geeky is the new cool. I promise.) Anyway, college is awesome. You will not miss your cat anywhere near as much as you think you will.

About college -- All of the girls in your freshman dorm are lame, I know, I tried to be friends with them, it was a disaster. You need to get out. Find the theater kids early, glom on. (except for that one boy that you meet at the party around Halloween who claims to be Matt Damon’s cousin, do not glom on to him, do make out with him and do not care when he flakes on calling you, not worth it. I just Googled that guy and even though he claims to be a “computer bitch” he has next to zero web presence. He appears to still be using Friendster which I promise you is no longer cool or necessarily even functional. Also he has put on some weight. Also there is no way hooking up with him will lead to some Matt Damon action.). Do not even pretend that maybe you’d like frat parties, you will not. The boy from the sailing team who is in your freshman orientation group is adorable, try to talk him out of falling for the slutty girl in your dorm – use your boobs (this advice applies to pretty much everything. You are neglecting a prime asset in your assault on life).

Life wise things turn out ok, which means you can stop worrying (are you sensing a theme here?) and maybe have a bit more fun. But no too much, I like my paycheck.

Love You You!

Me