I have been a bad blogger, no new entries in over a week. Secretly, I was competing with the Pope to see who could withstand the pressures of blogging the longest. Well, you win Pope. Also, I couldn't come up with anything overtly negative or positive to say about life. Kinda in that mid range rut. But things are going to change, I can feel it.

Much like Mark, I too have joined a secret society. I went in support of my friend Sarah from work. She had not been in some time and knew she could use me as a shield against the onslaught of questions of her whereabouts. It was in a rather large building. Bright fluorescent lights softly humming. I was taken around and shown all the different "rooms". Some occupied, others dark and empty. Strange bits of impressionistic art lay scattered here and there. Metal of all sorts, shaped and twisted into what could only be described as some modern day meets medival torture devices. The sights and sounds all mixed together were overwhelming. Soon, I noticed I was very overdressed in my t-shirt and sweatpants. Scantily clad men and women frolicked here and there upon these torture devices. Soft grunts and moans wafted towards my ears. Skin glistened in sweat. Briefly, I thought of Mr and Mrs Nosuch and wondered what I had gotten myself into. One room I entered was thick with the smell of testosterone. I thought to myself, "Ten minutes in here and I'll be pregnant on the scent alone". Swiftly I retreated to the safety of the women's only room. More devices were scattered here and there as well. But these were softer in shape, less of monstrosities. Also the color hues were softer. The grunting and moaning was still prevalent here but without the huskiness of the male voice. I thought maybe I had found a place among these strange people. My friend caught up to me and begin to show me how to use the odd devices. Oh how they made my heart race. On several occasions, I practically lost my breath. She smiled encouragingly as my eyes would meet hers in question. I persevered in this maddening environment in which I found myself so removed. Afterwards, we met with one of the leaders. He was smiling and supportive. He wanted me to return again with Sarah, saying that I showed much promise. I found myself giddy, maybe it was all that blood rushing to my brain or maybe the lack of oxygen. Somehow all this oddity of sensations had left me with a feeling of accomplishment. I promised to return and even mistakeningly left my driver's license with the leader. As we passed through the glass doors to leave, our warm skin hit the cool air and steam curled around us, I turned to my friend. "What do you call this place?", I said. She merely replied, "Its the gym".