Today I am wonderfully sore. four days of working out after months of a sedentary lifestyle will do that for you. And oh, the pain, feels so so good.
My puppy is slowly, and with much confusion, learning to sort of walk on a leash. The best way to a boxer's brain is through their mouth, apparently. As long as I have a fist full of smelly treats, she's just happy as a lark to be wearing her harness.
The shirt I'm wearing today has slightly shorter sleeves than usual, and I'm distressed at the fact that you can see my PATHETIC FARMER'S TAN. I spent most of the summer pregnant and in HUGE clothes, hiding my once toned arms as they became flabby, and now I look like Bubba from the corner dairy farm.
I must go grocery shopping tonight. I hate going on Fridays, but we're getting low and I don't want to eat cookies just because there's nothing else. I've been so good this week. The only cheat I've had was some chocolate graham crackers last night, which really isn't all that bad if you consider the amount of JUNK I've crammed in, in recent months.
I've decided that ediets, on their default setting, is just too damn complicated. I mean, in a week, they give me 6 different meals for 6 days. There's just no way I'm making 36 different things each week, so I've been tinkering with it a bit. I've now got it changed to breakfast being my choice, the four meals in the day the exact same all week long, and then a different dinner each night. Might sound boring, but I find it much easier to make lots of one thing then one of lots. Plus, the first week I bought raspberries for a meal, and by the time I got to it on the plan they'd gone all mushy and greenish. Not cool. Now I just have to pick 4 things I like and then find a dinner, and since all the dinners have to be "family" friendly as well as "EFL" friendly, that narrows the search a bit. But I love that once you have it all figured out, they print you out a shopping list. That way I just have to add the stuff I need for the kids, and I'm off to the store.
So far, it's been worth the $20 it cost me...just to keep me away from the bad stuff I normally binge on.
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
This morning, hubby and I had our physicals for our new life insurance policy. I’m switching life insurance, because the old company I worked with made me mad, and yes, I am immature enough to switch companies just because my panties are in a bunch. The old company had my life, house and car policies…and got a ton of my money each year. One time, I paid two car policies at the same time, and while the exact total should have been like $190.98, I rounded up and paid them $191. Well, even though I put the payment slips into the envelope, they couldn’t seem to figure out that I was paying both policies, with an extra $.02 to apply somewhere. Hell, they could have even kept the 2 pennies and had a party, for all I cared, but since they weren’t smart enough to do that, they applied the whole amount to one of the cars, and let the other one lapse without ever contacting me. Smart. So, long story short, I was mad, and switched companies.
Anyway…last night, all of the sudden, my hubby started feeling really sick…he started sweating really bad and got nauseous, and he said he felt like his heart was beating really hard and really fast…and all I could think was “I’m pretty sure that if he has a heart attack tonight, they’re not going to give us our policy”.
Fast forward to the middle of the night…I heard something in the kitchen, so I woke him up and said “someone just took the lid off the peanut butter jar”. Because obviously my mouth has a mind of it’s own at 2:30 in the morning, and what that really meant was “I think one of the kids is sleepwalking and is in the kitchen…go check”. He, being equally coherent at that time of the morning said “but the bubbles are in the cabinet”. What? Okay, so the noise kept going, and I had woken up a little more by then, so I said “I think the dog got out of her kennel.” To which he angrily replied “I put the cat in the mailbox this morning”. So I kicked him, and he woke up and said “what? Was I snoring?” and I said “the dog is loose in the house and is drinking out of the toilet”. He said “no, that’s the cat”, and I said “I’m pretty sure that’s not the cat”. And I was right…the puppy got out of her kennel and was running through the house, drinking out of toilets. But she didn’t eat the peanut butter so that was good.
And then I had a dream that I was Madonna’s nanny and housekeeper, and I had to keep going to all these stores with her to find clothes for her daughter, and she had horrible taste and me and the kid hated all the clothes she picked out.
Anyway…last night, all of the sudden, my hubby started feeling really sick…he started sweating really bad and got nauseous, and he said he felt like his heart was beating really hard and really fast…and all I could think was “I’m pretty sure that if he has a heart attack tonight, they’re not going to give us our policy”.
Fast forward to the middle of the night…I heard something in the kitchen, so I woke him up and said “someone just took the lid off the peanut butter jar”. Because obviously my mouth has a mind of it’s own at 2:30 in the morning, and what that really meant was “I think one of the kids is sleepwalking and is in the kitchen…go check”. He, being equally coherent at that time of the morning said “but the bubbles are in the cabinet”. What? Okay, so the noise kept going, and I had woken up a little more by then, so I said “I think the dog got out of her kennel.” To which he angrily replied “I put the cat in the mailbox this morning”. So I kicked him, and he woke up and said “what? Was I snoring?” and I said “the dog is loose in the house and is drinking out of the toilet”. He said “no, that’s the cat”, and I said “I’m pretty sure that’s not the cat”. And I was right…the puppy got out of her kennel and was running through the house, drinking out of toilets. But she didn’t eat the peanut butter so that was good.
And then I had a dream that I was Madonna’s nanny and housekeeper, and I had to keep going to all these stores with her to find clothes for her daughter, and she had horrible taste and me and the kid hated all the clothes she picked out.
Monday, September 27, 2004
Well, the large, purple harness turned out to be the right size after all...I put her in it this weekend, to get her used to it, and it didn't seem to bother her at all. No frantic scratching or twirling in circles trying to get it off. Of course, she's very fast, and a little bit slippery, so it took me about 45 minutes and 73 treats before I got it fitted, over her head, leg through the hole, strap around her belly, and snapped.
My kids immediately wanted to put her on a leash, so I said sure, just don't pull on her or she'll get nervous. They went to the front yard and in 12 seconds she'd turned herself completely inside out and escaped the harness. Then she merrily ran zig-zags up and down the sidewalk with her tongue out the side of her mouth singing "catch me if you can"
I may have to try the pinch collar. It's the only thing I've ever used that a boxer couldn't slip it's head out of.
On the bright side, I finally got my act together and MADE IT TO THE GYM on lunch break today...and guess what? The building is still standing, no major emergencies occured, and everyone is just swell. Did I mention that I tend to worry too much?
My kids immediately wanted to put her on a leash, so I said sure, just don't pull on her or she'll get nervous. They went to the front yard and in 12 seconds she'd turned herself completely inside out and escaped the harness. Then she merrily ran zig-zags up and down the sidewalk with her tongue out the side of her mouth singing "catch me if you can"
I may have to try the pinch collar. It's the only thing I've ever used that a boxer couldn't slip it's head out of.
On the bright side, I finally got my act together and MADE IT TO THE GYM on lunch break today...and guess what? The building is still standing, no major emergencies occured, and everyone is just swell. Did I mention that I tend to worry too much?
Friday, September 24, 2004
I spent lunch at the petstore AGAIN today.
today it was in search of a harness for my collar-hating new boxer. She doesn't just hate the collar. She HATES the collar. You put it on her and she sits and scratches and scratches and scratches, and then pretty soon she's got a big lump on her neck from all the scratching, which she scratches until she looks deformed. Or like she's got a bad case of lymphoma. Neither of which is good. The first time she did it, my other boxer had just died of lymphoma, and me, thinking the worst, burst into tears...she's only 3 months old! She can't have it already! It wasn't lymphoma, it was all the damn scratching.
So, being the ever responsible parent, she hasn't had a collar on in two months. I thought I'd try a harness instead, with the added benefit of keeping her from strangling herself or popping off the leash and running away. She's fast.
So today, I went in search of a harness, because this dog has got to learn how to walk on a leash yesterday, or I will never get to run with her, which I don't REALLY want to do, but I also don't really want my ass to look like this, so what can I do. Here's where the smart part comes in. Last night I told myself "oh yeah, don't forget to measure her chest"
Did I do it?
You would think so, but no. So I stood there in the petstore going "well she's about this big...does that help?"
I wanted to get a medium because it came in pink, but I went with a large purple one in the hopes that if it is too big, I can just rubberband it shorter. Because, you know, I probably won't be back to the petstore till like Sunday, and I can't wait and just buy it then when I know her size...
I want it NOW, Mommy!
today it was in search of a harness for my collar-hating new boxer. She doesn't just hate the collar. She HATES the collar. You put it on her and she sits and scratches and scratches and scratches, and then pretty soon she's got a big lump on her neck from all the scratching, which she scratches until she looks deformed. Or like she's got a bad case of lymphoma. Neither of which is good. The first time she did it, my other boxer had just died of lymphoma, and me, thinking the worst, burst into tears...she's only 3 months old! She can't have it already! It wasn't lymphoma, it was all the damn scratching.
So, being the ever responsible parent, she hasn't had a collar on in two months. I thought I'd try a harness instead, with the added benefit of keeping her from strangling herself or popping off the leash and running away. She's fast.
So today, I went in search of a harness, because this dog has got to learn how to walk on a leash yesterday, or I will never get to run with her, which I don't REALLY want to do, but I also don't really want my ass to look like this, so what can I do. Here's where the smart part comes in. Last night I told myself "oh yeah, don't forget to measure her chest"
Did I do it?
You would think so, but no. So I stood there in the petstore going "well she's about this big...does that help?"
I wanted to get a medium because it came in pink, but I went with a large purple one in the hopes that if it is too big, I can just rubberband it shorter. Because, you know, I probably won't be back to the petstore till like Sunday, and I can't wait and just buy it then when I know her size...
I want it NOW, Mommy!
Thursday, September 23, 2004
My sister taught me how to drive a stick-shift. I was 16 at the time, and she had a little red escort, and I'm pretty sure we were driving back from seeing her horse. I remember sitting at a red light, and the corner of Adams and Tienken, where there's just the smallest hint of a hill. I was so worried that I was going to roll backwards and smash her car. I was so worried that I was going to lurch forward and stall. I was so worried that I was going to let her down.
It was the first time, that I can remember, that I felt like someone believed I could do something new. That I was capeable of being more than I already was. It was a strange feeling for me...the girl that had come to terms with the fact that she was nothing. Growing up I was never as "smart" or "thin" or "pretty"as my sister. I was never as "good looking" or "talanted" or "funny" as my brother. I was an afterthought. I was an inconvienence. I always kind of felt like a foreign exchange student living with a family that tried their best to tolerate me, but never really gave a shit if I was there or not.
My sister was not my friend. She hated me. She admits it freely now that she did. She wanted to be an only child and I ruined that. But she was only a little girl trying to stay on the right side of the family, so I don't hold it against her. My brother was not my friend. But that was probably me, already convinced I didn't deserve kindness, that pulled away from him. He doesn't hold it against me.
But that day...She had gone away to college and we had suddenly gained a brand new relationship. Removed from eachother, we cautiously reached out and touched hands. And we began to like the person at the other end. She took me out to the barn that day, and on the way home, she asked if I'd like to drive. I said no...I couldn't drive a stick, which in my mind meant that I never would...I never could. But she insisted, and there I was, behind the wheel praying "God, please don't let me stall". I stalled, and mentally ducked my head waiting for the insults to start flying. They never came. She said "take a deep breath, push in the clutch, start it again, and this time remember to give it a little more gas". That was it. No name calling, no exasperated sigh, no dissertation on all the ways I had failed. She just gave me permission to try again.
I had no idea how to take that.
But I did it. I drove a stick. I still, when I can, drive a stick. It makes me feel powerful, and capeable, and loveable. Silly, but true.
Today my sister and brother and I are the best of friends, and I am so grateful to have them in my life. And when my life seems out of control and I start to think that I will never be happy again, I just take a deep breath, push in the clutch, start it again, and give it a little more gas.
Thank you sissy.
It was the first time, that I can remember, that I felt like someone believed I could do something new. That I was capeable of being more than I already was. It was a strange feeling for me...the girl that had come to terms with the fact that she was nothing. Growing up I was never as "smart" or "thin" or "pretty"as my sister. I was never as "good looking" or "talanted" or "funny" as my brother. I was an afterthought. I was an inconvienence. I always kind of felt like a foreign exchange student living with a family that tried their best to tolerate me, but never really gave a shit if I was there or not.
My sister was not my friend. She hated me. She admits it freely now that she did. She wanted to be an only child and I ruined that. But she was only a little girl trying to stay on the right side of the family, so I don't hold it against her. My brother was not my friend. But that was probably me, already convinced I didn't deserve kindness, that pulled away from him. He doesn't hold it against me.
But that day...She had gone away to college and we had suddenly gained a brand new relationship. Removed from eachother, we cautiously reached out and touched hands. And we began to like the person at the other end. She took me out to the barn that day, and on the way home, she asked if I'd like to drive. I said no...I couldn't drive a stick, which in my mind meant that I never would...I never could. But she insisted, and there I was, behind the wheel praying "God, please don't let me stall". I stalled, and mentally ducked my head waiting for the insults to start flying. They never came. She said "take a deep breath, push in the clutch, start it again, and this time remember to give it a little more gas". That was it. No name calling, no exasperated sigh, no dissertation on all the ways I had failed. She just gave me permission to try again.
I had no idea how to take that.
But I did it. I drove a stick. I still, when I can, drive a stick. It makes me feel powerful, and capeable, and loveable. Silly, but true.
Today my sister and brother and I are the best of friends, and I am so grateful to have them in my life. And when my life seems out of control and I start to think that I will never be happy again, I just take a deep breath, push in the clutch, start it again, and give it a little more gas.
Thank you sissy.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Just so you know, string cheese tastes way better when you remember to take it out of your cooler bag and put it in the fridge because you didn't put any ice in your cooler bag because you have a fridge sitting right there in your office. Instead I left it in the bag, right next to the apple that would probably taste better cold too.
No, I did not eat the apple, I had a Fast Break instead. Thanks for asking.
No, I did not eat the apple, I had a Fast Break instead. Thanks for asking.
I finally found time to get my hair chopped last night...she took off 5 inches and I still have enough to pull back into a ponytail...I guess I let it get a little longer than I thought. It feels SOOO much better now...healthy and less frizzy.
My new MRP was delivered to my house today. Of course, I'm at work, which means I have to wait to open it till I get home tonight. :( I'm like a kid at Christmas...if I know there's something on the way, I can't WAIT to open it. I know. Excited about an MRP? Insane. But it's a BOX people. One that came in the mail and is addressed to me! Very exciting stuff!
I talked to a girlfriend of mine today that I haven't talked to in 4 months and haven't seen in over a year. I thought she had written me off or something, but as it turns out, she's in a bad place (marriage) and is so so sad. It's horrible. She's probably the nicest person in the whole world and I hate to hear that she's so sad. No Fair. I want to make it all better, but there's really nothing I can do, you know? I mean I can listen and "be there", but when you get to that bad place, the only one that can change anything is you...and that's a really hard thing to do. She said she's lost 30 pounds, which is great, but she lost it on the "hey I'm so stressed out that if I try to eat anything I'm going to puke, so I guess I'll just sit here and chew off my fingernails" diet, which is no good. She wants to start BFL again, but just can't get motivated. Been there. Oh wait, that's where I am now. Not for the exact same reasons, but they're not entirely unrelated.
My new MRP was delivered to my house today. Of course, I'm at work, which means I have to wait to open it till I get home tonight. :( I'm like a kid at Christmas...if I know there's something on the way, I can't WAIT to open it. I know. Excited about an MRP? Insane. But it's a BOX people. One that came in the mail and is addressed to me! Very exciting stuff!
I talked to a girlfriend of mine today that I haven't talked to in 4 months and haven't seen in over a year. I thought she had written me off or something, but as it turns out, she's in a bad place (marriage) and is so so sad. It's horrible. She's probably the nicest person in the whole world and I hate to hear that she's so sad. No Fair. I want to make it all better, but there's really nothing I can do, you know? I mean I can listen and "be there", but when you get to that bad place, the only one that can change anything is you...and that's a really hard thing to do. She said she's lost 30 pounds, which is great, but she lost it on the "hey I'm so stressed out that if I try to eat anything I'm going to puke, so I guess I'll just sit here and chew off my fingernails" diet, which is no good. She wants to start BFL again, but just can't get motivated. Been there. Oh wait, that's where I am now. Not for the exact same reasons, but they're not entirely unrelated.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
Monday, September 20, 2004
I went to office depot this weekend to get a new lead for my printer, as my friend R would say, and they were having a big clearance sale on all back to school stuff. I got a purple backpack with flowers and butterflies on it for $2.50, and three notebooks for $1.00 that are called "banana paper"...recycled bananas! How cool is that. I figured that it was someones way of telling me that maybe I should start keeping a food journal again, because how totally appropriate is it to keep a food journal on food paper? Totally.
I found a picture of Vin on the internet and now it's my wallpaper on my computer.
I heart him.
Yes, I am twelve, thanks for asking.
I found a picture of Vin on the internet and now it's my wallpaper on my computer.
I heart him.
Yes, I am twelve, thanks for asking.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
positive changes
Things I've done this week that are good for me
1. Did squats for the first time (with weight) since having the baby
2. Joined ediets, edited my whole first week, printed out all meals, recipes, and shopping lists
3. Told my husband it was time for counseling
Yeah me!
1. Did squats for the first time (with weight) since having the baby
2. Joined ediets, edited my whole first week, printed out all meals, recipes, and shopping lists
3. Told my husband it was time for counseling
Yeah me!
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
for all you useless trivia junkies...
I know I haven't posted much lately, but I've been boring. Not bored, boring. Just been in a funk when I'd rather read about what all my online "friends" have been doing then write about my same old same old days of late.
Anyway...as promised....useless trivia alert...
the phrase "ok" is actually derived from an old slang spelling of "all correct", which became "oll korrect", which was then shortened to "OK"
there. now you can go amaze your friends and co-workers.
Have a good day, AC?
Anyway...as promised....useless trivia alert...
the phrase "ok" is actually derived from an old slang spelling of "all correct", which became "oll korrect", which was then shortened to "OK"
there. now you can go amaze your friends and co-workers.
Have a good day, AC?
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
Bah
That's all I have to say to Erin from DF company that keeps calling me and making me DO MY JOB.
I'm procrastinating as fast as I can here, folks.
How can I really be expected to work when Olivia Newton and John Travolta are screeching "you're the one that I want" from the work radio permanently set to ez-rock?
Makes me want to wear a leather jacket and clog shoes under which I can put out my cig...oh, and get a perm, and go to the fun-house.
I'm procrastinating as fast as I can here, folks.
How can I really be expected to work when Olivia Newton and John Travolta are screeching "you're the one that I want" from the work radio permanently set to ez-rock?
Makes me want to wear a leather jacket and clog shoes under which I can put out my cig...oh, and get a perm, and go to the fun-house.
Thursday, August 26, 2004
Bisous and Amazon
I love Amazon. If I could, I would marry Amazon, and we would have several reasonably priced children in every available size and color. Last night, when I got home from work, waiting there on the porch was yet another package from my amazonian true love. You see, Amazon is thoughtful that way. Every time I visit, a few days later I find this wonderful surprise on my porch. It's like magic. But in the cool magic kind of way, not the scare the crap out of you magic, like curses and hexes and things of that nature. Last night, I ripped open the box and found the wonderfulest of all wonderful wonders...the DDR2Max and dance pad! Bisous put me on to this in her recent postings on Diva's message board and she's right. It rocks. I have never laughed so hard or looked so foolish as I did last night. Oh God, I HOPE I've never looked that foolish, cuz I gotta say I looked pretty damn foolish. I do believe it will take a couple of days before I figure the whole thing out, but I was doing cardio that was fun, and you just don't find that every day of the week, you know what I'm saying? We're giving ourselves a month to practice, and then we're having a dance off...me and two of my kids...If they win, I have to clean both their rooms, organize them, and sort through all their toys and clothes, etc....and if I win, they have to wash my truck, inside and out. I will practice night and day if I have to...I WILL NOT LOSE TO A 7 YEAR OLD!
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Pure sin in a little plastic tube
Oh the humanity. Just when I thought I was doing so well with staying away from the sweets, this morning when I stopped at the local gas station to get my first diet coke of the day, I found the most wonderful, terrible treat....candy coated, chocolate covered, sunflower seeds. Sweet and salt and oh so yummy.
I have a new friend at Fusion Labs. His website looks like it's just a cover for the more *ahem* scientific side of body building, but he gets all the protein powders and mrp's and stuff too, and he wrote me this great long email rating all the newest pro powders on taste and quality. Mostly because I was asking if he's ever tried Fruity Whey, because I didn't want to buy it if it tasted like crap. It was really sweet of him to reply and give me the heads up on other, better tasting options. Of course, I'll have to sample some stuff for myself, since I never believe anyone when it comes to mrp's and protein...there's nothing worse then buying a 6# tub because someone else likes it and then you get it and it tastes like a combination of dirt and ground up multi-vitamens.
I played tennis with my son, and I have to say that playing with a hyper 7 year old is pretty darn close to HIIT. His accuracy leaves a little to be desired, so I spent 1 and 1/2 hours running back and forth over three different courts trying to return his volley. More fun then a treadmill, and a little time out in the fresh air that's so horribly lacking at my 8-5 daily grind. Gotta love it.
I have a new friend at Fusion Labs. His website looks like it's just a cover for the more *ahem* scientific side of body building, but he gets all the protein powders and mrp's and stuff too, and he wrote me this great long email rating all the newest pro powders on taste and quality. Mostly because I was asking if he's ever tried Fruity Whey, because I didn't want to buy it if it tasted like crap. It was really sweet of him to reply and give me the heads up on other, better tasting options. Of course, I'll have to sample some stuff for myself, since I never believe anyone when it comes to mrp's and protein...there's nothing worse then buying a 6# tub because someone else likes it and then you get it and it tastes like a combination of dirt and ground up multi-vitamens.
I played tennis with my son, and I have to say that playing with a hyper 7 year old is pretty darn close to HIIT. His accuracy leaves a little to be desired, so I spent 1 and 1/2 hours running back and forth over three different courts trying to return his volley. More fun then a treadmill, and a little time out in the fresh air that's so horribly lacking at my 8-5 daily grind. Gotta love it.
Friday, August 20, 2004
Best Laid Plans
Oy. I've been "planning" on eating right and working out for the last 4 days.
Monday I was all hyped up because I worked out and felt great, and was determined to stick with it. Of course everytime that happens, there are suddenly obstacles jumping out from everywhere that conspire to keep me from following through. One of these days I'm just going to have to find a way to make myself number one. One of these days I'll find the strength to say "no" to the people that insist I do things their way and on their schedule. One of these days I'll decide that my health and happiness is worth the little trouble packing my meals beforehand entails. One of these days I'll manage to get all 6 meals in, instead of binging on junk food at night because I'm starving from forgetting to eat all day. One of these days I'll drink a glass of water instead of diet coke. One of these days I'll take a few extra minutes at lunch to go to the gym. One of these days I'll learn to fly.
Monday I was all hyped up because I worked out and felt great, and was determined to stick with it. Of course everytime that happens, there are suddenly obstacles jumping out from everywhere that conspire to keep me from following through. One of these days I'm just going to have to find a way to make myself number one. One of these days I'll find the strength to say "no" to the people that insist I do things their way and on their schedule. One of these days I'll decide that my health and happiness is worth the little trouble packing my meals beforehand entails. One of these days I'll manage to get all 6 meals in, instead of binging on junk food at night because I'm starving from forgetting to eat all day. One of these days I'll drink a glass of water instead of diet coke. One of these days I'll take a few extra minutes at lunch to go to the gym. One of these days I'll learn to fly.
Thursday, August 19, 2004
note to self:
When one wears the same jeans that have previously split at the seam on the inner thigh, after one quickly throws a few stitches in the seam by hand, and the said stitches pop at work when squatting down to lift a box, one should not try to staple the seam back together while in the ladies room because 1. you look like a total ass when someone walks in, and 2. the staples will not hold and then will poke you in your thigh fat.
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
One...Two...Kick-Ball-Change!
36 pounds yet to lose (in clothes with shoes on)
Breakfast: reese’s peanut butter sticks (4); diet coke; handful of chex mix (cheddar flavor)
And I wonder why I’m fat.
Went to Jazzercize Monday night for the first time ever. I was happy to see there was nary a leg-warmer in sight. “kick-ball-change…WHOOO” It was actually fun. No, really, it was. Will I go back? I’d say no. Not because it wasn’t a good cardio workout, on the contrary, I was huffing and puffing, but because it’s pretty pricey. $7.00 a class seems like a lot to me. I could pay $85 for two months, but for someone who works full time and has four kids, I’d be LUCKY to make it to 2 classes a week, and, frankly, I don’t have $85 to spare right now. I did a walk through at the local Bally’s yesterday at lunch…they’ve been trying to get me to come back, since years and years ago when I had more money than brains I bought a membership that I never ever, not even once, used. Once it was finally paid off, I cancelled it, because I had never, ever, not even once used it, and by then I was a little smarter and a little poorer and didn’t feel like throwing the annual fee right out the window anymore. But now, I’m a whole lot smarter (I like to think), and a whole lot poorer, and a whole lot sick of not fitting into anything cute and fun. The current offer is to come back for $8 a month, and I figure, you just can’t beat that. If I get to the gym twice a week, that’s a dollar a visit, and I’m sure I can find somewhere to cut that dollar from my budget elsewhere…say, from the reese’s peanut butter sticks, for example.
They’ve upgraded their facility and it has a lap pool (like I’ll EVER be seen in a bathing suit in my current condition), a running track, a bunch of machines, and a separate free weight room. Plus an aerobics room which, disturbingly enough, is composed of ALL mirrored walls. I shudder at the thought.
So that’s what I’m doing. My mind is made up. Oh, and if I don’t go to the gym twice a week, somebody slap me.
Breakfast: reese’s peanut butter sticks (4); diet coke; handful of chex mix (cheddar flavor)
And I wonder why I’m fat.
Went to Jazzercize Monday night for the first time ever. I was happy to see there was nary a leg-warmer in sight. “kick-ball-change…WHOOO” It was actually fun. No, really, it was. Will I go back? I’d say no. Not because it wasn’t a good cardio workout, on the contrary, I was huffing and puffing, but because it’s pretty pricey. $7.00 a class seems like a lot to me. I could pay $85 for two months, but for someone who works full time and has four kids, I’d be LUCKY to make it to 2 classes a week, and, frankly, I don’t have $85 to spare right now. I did a walk through at the local Bally’s yesterday at lunch…they’ve been trying to get me to come back, since years and years ago when I had more money than brains I bought a membership that I never ever, not even once, used. Once it was finally paid off, I cancelled it, because I had never, ever, not even once used it, and by then I was a little smarter and a little poorer and didn’t feel like throwing the annual fee right out the window anymore. But now, I’m a whole lot smarter (I like to think), and a whole lot poorer, and a whole lot sick of not fitting into anything cute and fun. The current offer is to come back for $8 a month, and I figure, you just can’t beat that. If I get to the gym twice a week, that’s a dollar a visit, and I’m sure I can find somewhere to cut that dollar from my budget elsewhere…say, from the reese’s peanut butter sticks, for example.
They’ve upgraded their facility and it has a lap pool (like I’ll EVER be seen in a bathing suit in my current condition), a running track, a bunch of machines, and a separate free weight room. Plus an aerobics room which, disturbingly enough, is composed of ALL mirrored walls. I shudder at the thought.
So that’s what I’m doing. My mind is made up. Oh, and if I don’t go to the gym twice a week, somebody slap me.
Wednesday, August 11, 2004
okay. first, divaquest needs to get the hell out of my brain. Not only did she re-live the horror of the split seam on the favorite jeans, as detailed in my july 2nd blog entry, but now I find out that she also quotes her fellow bloggers, refering to them as "this girl I know" or "this friend of mine". I swear I thought I was the only one that did that. I've always felt like I was a little bit twisted, having to know what was going on in the lives of complete strangers and then talking about them like they're my long lost pals from elementary school. Glad to know I'm not alone.
It's actually a little sad that I have more blog "friends" then actual flesh and blood ones. I guess I get so busy with work and kids and husband and pets and stupid responsibilities that it's easier for me to maintain my imaginary "relationships" online then actually be accountable in person. A part of me knows that these people with the blogs I obsessively read aren't going to get mad at me if I'm a no-show today or even this week. If I feel like hiding in the house and not talking to anyone, they don't even know I'm gone, and they're always happy to fill me in on what I missed when I return. I can show up to chat in my sweats and bare feet and they don't call me a hoosier. I can catch up on the day's adventures during the commercials of my favorite shows and they don't yell at me to pay attention to what they're saying. I can fart right in front of them and not be embarrased. It's a beautiful thing.
It's actually a little sad that I have more blog "friends" then actual flesh and blood ones. I guess I get so busy with work and kids and husband and pets and stupid responsibilities that it's easier for me to maintain my imaginary "relationships" online then actually be accountable in person. A part of me knows that these people with the blogs I obsessively read aren't going to get mad at me if I'm a no-show today or even this week. If I feel like hiding in the house and not talking to anyone, they don't even know I'm gone, and they're always happy to fill me in on what I missed when I return. I can show up to chat in my sweats and bare feet and they don't call me a hoosier. I can catch up on the day's adventures during the commercials of my favorite shows and they don't yell at me to pay attention to what they're saying. I can fart right in front of them and not be embarrased. It's a beautiful thing.
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