Complete and utter mortification.

It's always something, boys and girls. But you know that by now. Let's just get right to it, shall we?

I had intended to regale the epic tale of renting a pickup truck and hauling my brand new mattress home in a torrential thunderstorm over the weekend, but I've pretty much just told you everything you need to know. We haven't had rain for MONTHS. On the ONE night I decide to buy a new mattress and have already paid to rent a truck to get it home, the sky cracks open and it pours like that time Noah summoned all of the animals two-by-two onto his brand new f---ing ark. And me without any plastic covering to throw on top of it!

Good GOD why does this ALWAYS happen to me!! Thank heaven for hair dryers, that's all I have to say.....

SO. The ACTUAL focus of my post today will be yet another run-in with the personal trainer at my gym who so thoughtfully attempted to swipe his credit card down my ass crack not so long ago. I know you can hardly wait! To laugh it up at my complete humiliation (yet again).

So the trainer dude bought a new sportscar, which I have seen him in around the parking lot. It is sleek, silver, and looks like a big penis. And I relayed this observation to one of the other personal trainers when we were talking about his new car one day. Mistake numero uno.

So yesterday, as I was treadmilling, said trainer gets one of his clients all set up on the treadmill next to me. She is a woman approximately 50 years of age. A little plump. She looked nice.

HE is standing on the other side of her, with his client treadmilling in between us. I looked over at him to say hello.

"So what's with the observation that my car looks like a BIG SILVER PENIS?" He shouts at me, (to my utter and complete horror!!!) IN FRONT OF HIS CLIENT.

"WHAT?" I gasped.

I couldn't BELIEVE he yelled that in front of her! This sweet older lady! What the hell was he thinking!!!!

I was just standing there with my mouth open. I didn't dare respond.

His client turns to look at me. I sort of giggle nervously and divert my eyes. Then she catches my eye and says, in complete earnesty (I swear to GOD I'm not making this up): "What, you mean it looks like a BIG DILDO?"

ACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I do not have to tell you that I just about choked on my own tongue. Not ONLY did she seem unfazed by this line of conversation, but THE WOMAN LOOKED AT ME AND SAID THE WORDS "BIG DILDO."

"Ahahahaha," I twittered. I had absolutely no idea what to do or say. The very next thing that came to mind was the NICKNAME I have for the dude's car, which is "Cockmobile." But I thought better of bringing THAT up, so I just kind of stood there with a blank smile wondering if this could *actually* be happening to me. I was so mortified! Oh my God! What do you DO in that situation???

So I'm not sure what color of pink I was at this point, but I looked over at the trainer again and he was laughing heartily. He seemed to think this WHOLE scenario was GREAT FUN. I waited another couple of minutes before clambering off the treadmill and scuttling off to the other end of the gym. Ohmygod!

So, there you have it. I've pretty much decided that working out is for the birds.

Ugh...

Oopsie.

So the next time I go to let the beagle out, I should probably check to make sure the back gate ISN'T propped WIDE OPEN from my lawnmowing endeavors.

I am such a bimbo. I mowed the lawn ALL BY MYSELF for the first time over the weekend (woohoo!!!) and then proceeded to leave the gate open. A while later I let the crazy beagle out, and was then treated to my neighbor returning him to me about a half hour after that and consequently pointing out my gate. Thanks, neighbor! So sorry you're living next to a COMPLETE IDIOT!!

I guess it would have been better for all of us had the beagle had made it far, far away and never looked back. I was wondering what all the commotion in the front yard was about. I heard him barking frantically, but I didn't realize (a) it was coming from the front yard and (b) he was trying to get my attention to let him back in the house. Usually people just ring the doorbell! If he was smart, he would have just done that.

But seriously, I usually surmise that everything happens for a reason, so I guess the beagle and I were meant to be. Dammit! Our one collective chance at happiness GONE in a poof of smoke...lousy do-gooding well-intentioned neighbor...

I would like to take this opportunity to DAMN the people at the M&M Mars corporation for making such delicious candies and the GOD-FORSAKEN M&M dispenser that someone conveniently set up approximately three steps from my cube. DAMN YOU, DELICIOUS M&M-MAKING PEOPLE! DAMN YOU AND YOUR CONVENIENT AND FUN M&M DISPENSER AND THE DELECTABLE LITTLE CANDIES ON DISPLAY WITHIN!

Also, a hex on the person that brought it to work, and an even bigger hex on the individual who so thoughtlessly set it up next to MY cube. This is SO unfair! Nobody else has to sit next to the candy dispenser and stare at the chocolate pieces waiting to be had within it all the live long day!!

Sigh. This spells more treadmill time for Hildy B. I'm weary.

Gross.

Um yeah, so I went outside to grill a hamburger over Labor Day weekend, and as I was poking the little lighter-dealy down into the gas grill to light it, I couldn't get it to light so I put my face down in there to see what was going on, and all of a sudden I saw something MOVE down in the bottom of the grill. What the crap!

I jumped back and leaned forward tentatively, peeking down inside. That, my friends, was the point when a MOUSE leapt out and started RUNNING FRANTICALLY AROUND THE INSIDE OF MY GRILL. Consequently, that was also the point that I began squealing like a little sissy girl, dropped the lid of the grill, turned on my heels and bolted into my house, burger in tow, and slammed the back door behind me. Then I stood there for a minute, my face mooshed up against the glass, watching for the mouse to come after me or something. I dunno, it could have!!

When I was pretty sure it wasn't going to give chase, the hamburger went RIGHT back into the fridge, as my appetite was GONE. How completely revolting!!!!

As many of you know, I am a total germophobe, so the thought of a VILE DISEASE-RIDDEN RODENT LICKING AND/OR POOPING IN THE PLACE WHERE I COOK MY FOOD is more than a little disconcerting. I am surprised I was able to sleep that night. GAH!!

Horsefeathers. Foul little whiskery beast!! Be careful of the meat served up at my house, folks. You never know what you're going to get. Burger, anyone? No? Can I interest you in char-grilled mouse? (Which is ALMOST what I had on my hands, which I suppose would have been worse? If that is possible?)

Euuuuuuuu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I need to go disinfect something now. I hope this doesn't give me a total complex like that Howard Hughes. If I start peeing in weird places, somebody give me some pills or something.