Right, so I wasn't too cut up about turning 32 (ahem), until The Russian told me I am now a MILF. Or, to be exact, on MILF doorstep. The conversation went something like this: Russian perved on a female personal trainer at the gym, and commented that she was a MILF. I was somewhat aghast, since the PT in question is about my age, and/ or possibly younger. When I pointed that out that be a MILF you surely need to (a) actually BE a mother and (b) be aged over 40 (at least), he replied that nope, I could also be a MILF. I was, as he phrased it so succinctly, on "MILF threshold".
And people wonder why there are so many single women in their thirties.
It was very strange to be in a hot country over the festive period. Even having Christmas songs on the radio and wearing Santa hats at the gym didn't really put me in the mood. I kept bumping into other Brits who seemed similarly lost. I think we all sported the same look of having landed in a desert island without having being told we were leaving the library. I also missed the little reunions you have back home when all the City Mice come home from London and we catch up in the Plough to discuss who's got married, pregnant, already divorced and (most importantly) who's got fat and bald. Although my sister's experience on Christmas Eve wasn't the best. She was standing in the toilets when she was suddenly recognised by two girls from the same year at school she couldn't recollect for the life of her. Whilst she was desperately trying to remember their names, they both commented how changed she seemed from school: "You look so glamorous, I hardly recognised you. You're so different from when you were at school, when you walked around looking like you wanted to shoot everyone".
So it turns out that New Zealand is very high-fivey. Or fist touchy. I'm not sure if it's just working in a gym, or a general Kiwi enthusiasm, but, as an English Lady, it all makes me very uncomfortable. I can just about pull off the high five. The fist pump touching thing I leave well alone. If someone tries to do it to me I just smile apologetically, leaving my hands open by my sides, and explain "sorry, I'm English". Kiwi's also shorten every word they possibly can: un-co (uncoordinated - surprisingly this comes up in conversation quite a lot on the gym floor), tammy (tampon).... OK maybe that's it. I'm still recovering from having to pick up a used tammy from the ladies' changing room floors last week. The receptionist called me over, looking extremely apologetic, and gave me a post it with 'Locker 204' written on it. Hereafter known as Locker of Doom. Did you think that working in a gym would be glamorous?
Speaking of the ladies room, just when I thought that actors couldn't cope with daily tasks, I encountered Incompetent Members. I was in the changing rooms earlier today when a girl who was blow drying her hair paused, turned off the hair dryer and asked 'excuse me, if I've lost my comb, do I just ask reception?' Er, yes..... she carried on blow drying her hair and, indicating the strands which were now blowing wildly in her face commented, 'I kind of need it now'. Right... well you'd better get yourself down to Boots then hadn't you?
I am definitely over the judginess (it's a word) of personal trainers on my diet. Yesterday I was eating my muffin made of WHITE SUGAR in the cafe when one of the PT's came over, passed comment on what I was consuming, and pointed out that he has 9% body fat. Oh hurray for you. I am sure you and your paleo meatloaf will be very happy together. You do start to get a bit paranoid when you work in an industry devoted to being fit, healthy and beautiful. I never feel fit enough, toned enough, healthy enough here. Should I be doing cross fit, GRIT or 3 attack classes in a row? Am I making my legs too big if I lift too much weight in pump? But then will I not be strong enough if I don't lift the weight? And are large quads attractive, or will they simply weigh me down when I try to jump? WHAT HAPPENS IF I HAVE WHOLE MILK ON MY MUESLI MIX WITH SUNFLOWER SEEDS INSTEAD OF GLUTEN FREE ALMOND MILK??
In short, I'm starting to understand why Kirstie Alley ate the whole cake.
Overheard at the Gym
INSTRUCTOR: I love the women in this gym. I'm not sure if they're getting hotter, or I'm getting hornier. They're awesome...
