So it's back to school week.
Hooray.
Which means work will be kicking my arse this week. Oh well--that's life. My laptop is still dead, but the rents came through. Since Mom is on hiatus from school this semester because of her big time promotion at the hospital, I get to use a computer that doesn't weigh 13 lbs (yes, my HP weighs 13 giant pounds!). I'm thinking that perhaps it is time to get a new computer. I've had the old one since..hmm...um. Well, 2003? Yea. Methinks it's time.
So now I'm taking a break from working on a big project (because I've hit a brick wall and if I look at the screen for any longer, I swear to god my retinas are going to pop off my eyes). Maybe it's time for a cocktail. Yes. I think it is. Maybe that will make things go better? Probably not, but oh well.
And to cap things off, why oh why did I agree to work this Saturday? Money is always nice, but I have a feeling I may be a tired girl. At least I don't have to be in until 11:30. Thank god for small favors.
But I did get one thing marked off my "to do" list this week. Two, actually. I got my six care package things for Haiti made and started my b-day shopping for Colleene's little boy. I was at the bookstore at Butler tonight, and something super cute caught my eye. Got to indoctrinate that child early..so he knows what's what : )
Too bad shopping for me isn't so easy. I looked for like three hours on Friday and found NADA. Just perfume and some Boing concealer (LOVE IT!) from Sephora. Everything I tried on looked fantastic...from the waist down. I finally got so fed up at Macy's I asked the sales woman for some advice.
And you know what I got?
I was told that maybe I needed to look into something "You know--spandexy".
I'm sorry, what? Like something that Marey Carey would wear? Is that you were implying? Awesome. That's the freaking best you've got? When you are paid on commission even? I cannot be the only woman in the world with bigger than normal breasts who wants to buy a damn dress! So the search goes on.
Hopefully not in vain.
Damnit.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Having one of THOSE days..
You know. That day that sneaks up on you.
That day that your job makes you want to kill yourself. Or at least pound your head so hard against the wall the blessed unconsciousness comes and takes you away for a few hours. Days if you are lucky. Really lucky.
Today is that day...oh boy is it ever.
Not people...but processes. All I want to do is order some god damned barcharts! I had no idea that it would 1) take a month and half to get this done 2) that there were complex crazy algorithms used to determine what you "really" need 3)That even though I am here day in and day out busting my ass...I'm clearly incompetent and should not be allowed to make such a decision that would actually benefit sales--you know those things that pay the salaries of those people who sit up cubicles all day long and determine what I "need" and 4)IT WOULD DRIVE ME UP THE EFFING WALL WITH DEEP HATRED FOR THIS WOMAN THAT IS 300 MILES AWAY EVEN THOUGH I HAD NOT A CLUE AS TO WHO SHE WAS OR HOW MUCH POWER SHE HAD OVER ME UNTIL TODAY. arrrggh!
No really. I am about to send one last e-mail that says "You know--I'm sorry for asking you to do your job. Let's just forget it and you can sit in your cubicle and pretend to be busy with "work" while secretly adding to your collection of troll dolls on e-bay." I'm not a sucker--I know what goes in corporate America. And I'm totally not basing my opinions of said culture on Office Space, which is really more like true than people want to imagine in the first place, but on first hand experience of being in these places.
I'm just pissed. What's next? Being told when I can and cannot leave to use the bathroom? Will I have to raise my hand and wait via teleconference to get the okay...you know, from someone who knows more than I do about what's going on in my own body. Obviously someone should know these things-and clearly I cannot be trusted.
That day that your job makes you want to kill yourself. Or at least pound your head so hard against the wall the blessed unconsciousness comes and takes you away for a few hours. Days if you are lucky. Really lucky.
Today is that day...oh boy is it ever.
Not people...but processes. All I want to do is order some god damned barcharts! I had no idea that it would 1) take a month and half to get this done 2) that there were complex crazy algorithms used to determine what you "really" need 3)That even though I am here day in and day out busting my ass...I'm clearly incompetent and should not be allowed to make such a decision that would actually benefit sales--you know those things that pay the salaries of those people who sit up cubicles all day long and determine what I "need" and 4)IT WOULD DRIVE ME UP THE EFFING WALL WITH DEEP HATRED FOR THIS WOMAN THAT IS 300 MILES AWAY EVEN THOUGH I HAD NOT A CLUE AS TO WHO SHE WAS OR HOW MUCH POWER SHE HAD OVER ME UNTIL TODAY. arrrggh!
No really. I am about to send one last e-mail that says "You know--I'm sorry for asking you to do your job. Let's just forget it and you can sit in your cubicle and pretend to be busy with "work" while secretly adding to your collection of troll dolls on e-bay." I'm not a sucker--I know what goes in corporate America. And I'm totally not basing my opinions of said culture on Office Space, which is really more like true than people want to imagine in the first place, but on first hand experience of being in these places.
I'm just pissed. What's next? Being told when I can and cannot leave to use the bathroom? Will I have to raise my hand and wait via teleconference to get the okay...you know, from someone who knows more than I do about what's going on in my own body. Obviously someone should know these things-and clearly I cannot be trusted.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Oh...I've been a slacker--and on the hunt....
...so let's see. Last time I wrote was before Christmas.
Hmm. Lots of stuff has happened in the in-between.
Like I'm still a dumb girl when it comes to a lot of things. Very. Dumb.
Oh well. C'est la vie.
And apparently it is my lot in life to never, ever, ever, ever learn my lesson. I am quickly morphing into a hybrid of female fictional characters that I used to feel sorry for...and it's a bit unnerving. Bad habits abound these days, but oh well. You only live once, so you might as well enjoy things as they come : )
Moving on...
It is soon to be my birthday. And I have been informed by the powers that be that I should be on the hunt for a dress...but not just any dress.
Something short--and with killer heels to go along with it. (And if you are going to have cute shoes and a make 'em wish they were remotely lucky enough to be going home with you dress--you might as well get a fun bag, too, right? Right.)So as of this weekend, I will be on the hunt for said dress. I have these perfect purple suede platform booties that I also need to find something to wear with....and if anyone says "leggings!", I reserve the right to have you killed. There ain't no way in hell I will parade around in public in leggings. Even if I have lost 14 pounds since Christmas. (See? Sometimes miracles do happen!) My ass, thank god, did not shrink away. Hooray!!
The best part of the last week? Doing my taxes! February 5th makes me a broad with cash monies..I'll be rolling in it. Until my student loan payment goes through. But I can dream, can't I? Just got to make it until June....bonus time. And then, dear buddies, this girl is going on V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N. Preferably someplace warm, with a beach, and boys named Javier fetching me drinks. Ah....that sounds muy perfecto!
Hmm. Lots of stuff has happened in the in-between.
Like I'm still a dumb girl when it comes to a lot of things. Very. Dumb.
Oh well. C'est la vie.
And apparently it is my lot in life to never, ever, ever, ever learn my lesson. I am quickly morphing into a hybrid of female fictional characters that I used to feel sorry for...and it's a bit unnerving. Bad habits abound these days, but oh well. You only live once, so you might as well enjoy things as they come : )
Moving on...
It is soon to be my birthday. And I have been informed by the powers that be that I should be on the hunt for a dress...but not just any dress.
Something short--and with killer heels to go along with it. (And if you are going to have cute shoes and a make 'em wish they were remotely lucky enough to be going home with you dress--you might as well get a fun bag, too, right? Right.)So as of this weekend, I will be on the hunt for said dress. I have these perfect purple suede platform booties that I also need to find something to wear with....and if anyone says "leggings!", I reserve the right to have you killed. There ain't no way in hell I will parade around in public in leggings. Even if I have lost 14 pounds since Christmas. (See? Sometimes miracles do happen!) My ass, thank god, did not shrink away. Hooray!!
The best part of the last week? Doing my taxes! February 5th makes me a broad with cash monies..I'll be rolling in it. Until my student loan payment goes through. But I can dream, can't I? Just got to make it until June....bonus time. And then, dear buddies, this girl is going on V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N. Preferably someplace warm, with a beach, and boys named Javier fetching me drinks. Ah....that sounds muy perfecto!
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Ski Day! (Or: You can teach this girl new tricks)
So today was the day.
A day I would never have thought coming.
If you know me--you know I have an irrational fear of heights, elevators (I don't care if it's 26 stories to the top...if there are stairs, I will most likely be on them), and falling.
So if you had told me even three weeks ago that on December 20th, my ass would be in a ski lift--I would have suggested you go get medicated.
Oh how times have changed. I am a person who does enjoy learning and doing new things. Even if that psychic at Connor Prairie told me that I tend to be a "stick in the mud" (this is not fair..everyone has slow periods and if I choose to stay home and revisit my copy of On Royal and Papal Power or A Woman Named Jackie, that is my business), I find myself, as of late, shocking myself with the things I am taking on.
First with the skiing.
We get to Perfect North Slopes and there a good amount of people. We get our skis and boots (and away I go into the bathroom to put on my puffy pants--which thank god! I bought and wore...it would seem the black overalls were very popular. I was practically chic.) and we are off to our lesson. We took an hour with a very nice kid (17--drat) who taught us the basics. By the end of our lesson, Beth and I were feeling quite competent.
And this would lead to Rhea's Folly.
We go down the bunny slope 10 times or so...each time getting better and better and we start to think that "little" hill over there on the green lift doesn't look so bad. How wrong I was.
And no. I still loathe ski lifts. Dread them. Hate them. Petrified. There is nothing holding you in! And at one point they just STOPPED. I think I might have said "What the FUCK is going on!" a bit too loudly for a family place--but oh well. Some fears are hard to kill...and this one would mainly be the fear of my plummeting to my death from a tiny little swing.
The first time down the big hill was a fiasco. It didn't appear to be THAT high until I got up there. And then it seemed REALLY high and I might have had a small moment of "So.... this is how you are going to die? Well--at least it's interesting." I think it would have been better if I had just sat on my ass and scooted down. The second time was comical. To say I fell down is an understatement. I bit it. Hard. And at one point, no matter how hard I tried, I could not get up with out starting to slide freakishly fast in the backwards direction. I'm sure I looked the fool, but I was so frustrated that I started beating my skis with my poles while I was stuck on the ground. Reaching my breaking point (I believe at one point I wailed "All I want to do is stand up god dammit! Fuck these stupid skis! Assholes!!" Again--not the best vocabulary for kidlets--oh well. Curse words are like the wonderful little condiments of the English language..and I don't trust people who don't swear at some point. It's not natural.), I struggled to get the damn skis off my feet, snatched them up, and attempted to to go down the hill in my boots. This is the first time I hurt my knee. The second time I went down HARD and wrenched it, I literally heard something *pop*. My knee is now the size of a grapefruit--and I sit here with a bag of frozen blueberries on said knee hoping it will go down enough for me to be able to carry down my trash tomorrow morning.
But I survived--and Beth did really well! She is sure to impress her boyfriend on the slopes of Tahoe. Well, I would be impressed--but then again before today, I had never put on skis in my life. So maybe I am not the best judge...whatever. It's hard and she did great...and I didn't suck as bad as I thought I would, which is always a plus.
After skiing--we did the tubing thing. Again..mildly terrifying--but super fun. And really fast! We went down in tandem twice, which makes you go even faster.
Since I didn't die doing either one of these activities, and I now have the snow pants--I guess I'm up for such activities again. As long as you are okay with leaving me on the bunny hill and not mocking my squeal of terror while going down the massive hill while tubing, count me in--I'm game.
And now I am off to a hot bath to soak away the rest of my bumps and bruises.
Then it's back to the frozen veggie section in my freezer. Thank god I still have peas!
A day I would never have thought coming.
If you know me--you know I have an irrational fear of heights, elevators (I don't care if it's 26 stories to the top...if there are stairs, I will most likely be on them), and falling.
So if you had told me even three weeks ago that on December 20th, my ass would be in a ski lift--I would have suggested you go get medicated.
Oh how times have changed. I am a person who does enjoy learning and doing new things. Even if that psychic at Connor Prairie told me that I tend to be a "stick in the mud" (this is not fair..everyone has slow periods and if I choose to stay home and revisit my copy of On Royal and Papal Power or A Woman Named Jackie, that is my business), I find myself, as of late, shocking myself with the things I am taking on.
First with the skiing.
We get to Perfect North Slopes and there a good amount of people. We get our skis and boots (and away I go into the bathroom to put on my puffy pants--which thank god! I bought and wore...it would seem the black overalls were very popular. I was practically chic.) and we are off to our lesson. We took an hour with a very nice kid (17--drat) who taught us the basics. By the end of our lesson, Beth and I were feeling quite competent.
And this would lead to Rhea's Folly.
We go down the bunny slope 10 times or so...each time getting better and better and we start to think that "little" hill over there on the green lift doesn't look so bad. How wrong I was.
And no. I still loathe ski lifts. Dread them. Hate them. Petrified. There is nothing holding you in! And at one point they just STOPPED. I think I might have said "What the FUCK is going on!" a bit too loudly for a family place--but oh well. Some fears are hard to kill...and this one would mainly be the fear of my plummeting to my death from a tiny little swing.
The first time down the big hill was a fiasco. It didn't appear to be THAT high until I got up there. And then it seemed REALLY high and I might have had a small moment of "So.... this is how you are going to die? Well--at least it's interesting." I think it would have been better if I had just sat on my ass and scooted down. The second time was comical. To say I fell down is an understatement. I bit it. Hard. And at one point, no matter how hard I tried, I could not get up with out starting to slide freakishly fast in the backwards direction. I'm sure I looked the fool, but I was so frustrated that I started beating my skis with my poles while I was stuck on the ground. Reaching my breaking point (I believe at one point I wailed "All I want to do is stand up god dammit! Fuck these stupid skis! Assholes!!" Again--not the best vocabulary for kidlets--oh well. Curse words are like the wonderful little condiments of the English language..and I don't trust people who don't swear at some point. It's not natural.), I struggled to get the damn skis off my feet, snatched them up, and attempted to to go down the hill in my boots. This is the first time I hurt my knee. The second time I went down HARD and wrenched it, I literally heard something *pop*. My knee is now the size of a grapefruit--and I sit here with a bag of frozen blueberries on said knee hoping it will go down enough for me to be able to carry down my trash tomorrow morning.
But I survived--and Beth did really well! She is sure to impress her boyfriend on the slopes of Tahoe. Well, I would be impressed--but then again before today, I had never put on skis in my life. So maybe I am not the best judge...whatever. It's hard and she did great...and I didn't suck as bad as I thought I would, which is always a plus.
After skiing--we did the tubing thing. Again..mildly terrifying--but super fun. And really fast! We went down in tandem twice, which makes you go even faster.
Since I didn't die doing either one of these activities, and I now have the snow pants--I guess I'm up for such activities again. As long as you are okay with leaving me on the bunny hill and not mocking my squeal of terror while going down the massive hill while tubing, count me in--I'm game.
And now I am off to a hot bath to soak away the rest of my bumps and bruises.
Then it's back to the frozen veggie section in my freezer. Thank god I still have peas!
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Surviving Hell Week, Moving on Wheels, and Snow Pants...(yes--Snow Pants)
So I made it.
Last week was that most wonderful point at the end of the semester where children sell their books back. If you aren't familiar with such a practice--consider yourself lucky. I think the lightest box I packed was around 60 pounds. And yes--I have to move these suckers. I guess I should count my blessings that I don't look like a Russian body builder or something.
Considering that I really had very high hopes of not going through yet another one of these god-awful-weeks from hell, well, I let myself get pretty pissed off at these kids. (Which means, my friends, it's REALLY time for me to find a new job.) If I had to hear from little Suzy Sunshine or Johnny Man on Campus how "I didn't even use this book...and I still passed." or "You don't have to really read this crap, why bother?" or better yet "The prof tells me everything I need to know to pass the tests...why should I do more work?" my head was going to explode. I'm sorry--higher education is NOT A RIGHT. I'm old school: if you can't appreciate the fact that someone is paying almost 100 K for you to go school-you do NOT deserve to be there. Go work at Dairy Queen until you can appreciate learning. I'm just so sick of people from the age of 16 to 25. Guess what? You aren't special, you aren't the best thing to ever happen on this planet, and your parents need to be beaten for creating monsters like you!
There. I'm done with that.
Now, here's a much better mental image for you: me doing laundry in my freaking skates. A girl has got to learn somehow, and why not in the house? The only thing that sucks is my hallway is rather short, so I'm doing a lot of stopping and starting. Oh! And a word of warning: Carpet = stopping. Stopping very fast, actually. What a thing to learn with arms full of folded clothing fresh from the dryer. I guess the good thing is that they, at the very least, padded my fall. The loverly bruise on my knee and on my lower rib cage? Well..they are finally fading to a delightful shade of putrid yellow. Nice. I'm beginning to think Amy and Brittany may be right: A helmet is probably a good idea. Even more funny was the fact that when I went to get my hair cut this morning, Anthony talked about sponsoring the Roller Derby teams in town and trying to learn to skate. I told him where I bought mine because he was having a hard time finding quad skates and I told him of my antics at trying to teach myself so far. After he stopped laughing, he said I should go talk to the girls, as they might need comic releif in the upcoming season.
Yeah..he's a funny guy, isn't he?
And since I am the clumsiest girl ever, of course it is a fantastic idea for me to go skiing tomorrow....
I'm sorry, just typing that made me laugh. Let's be honest here, Rhea will, in all probability, not be skiing. I will be falling. A lot. So there will be a veritable rainbow coloring my body in the near future. Of course, to go skiing, one needs pants. Snow pants.
Do you know how damn hard it is to find snow pants in this town? I finally found a pair of boys overall thingies in black at wal-mart (shudder....wal-mart mere days before christmas). So I've brought them home for the final test: Do they fit?
Oh. Dear. Jesus.
I look like an overcooked Stay Puff Marshmallow Man with breasts. But they fit. Put the the coat on....my new sensible water proof gloves...top it off with the hat...
And now I appear to be an overfed mental patient who has wandered free of the institution.
So much for looking like one of those cute little snow bunnies on the slopes. Since I can't ski--I had at least hoped to appear adorable enough for someone to stop and help me up when I inevitably fall on my ass.
Crap.
Can't I ever catch a break?
Last week was that most wonderful point at the end of the semester where children sell their books back. If you aren't familiar with such a practice--consider yourself lucky. I think the lightest box I packed was around 60 pounds. And yes--I have to move these suckers. I guess I should count my blessings that I don't look like a Russian body builder or something.
Considering that I really had very high hopes of not going through yet another one of these god-awful-weeks from hell, well, I let myself get pretty pissed off at these kids. (Which means, my friends, it's REALLY time for me to find a new job.) If I had to hear from little Suzy Sunshine or Johnny Man on Campus how "I didn't even use this book...and I still passed." or "You don't have to really read this crap, why bother?" or better yet "The prof tells me everything I need to know to pass the tests...why should I do more work?" my head was going to explode. I'm sorry--higher education is NOT A RIGHT. I'm old school: if you can't appreciate the fact that someone is paying almost 100 K for you to go school-you do NOT deserve to be there. Go work at Dairy Queen until you can appreciate learning. I'm just so sick of people from the age of 16 to 25. Guess what? You aren't special, you aren't the best thing to ever happen on this planet, and your parents need to be beaten for creating monsters like you!
There. I'm done with that.
Now, here's a much better mental image for you: me doing laundry in my freaking skates. A girl has got to learn somehow, and why not in the house? The only thing that sucks is my hallway is rather short, so I'm doing a lot of stopping and starting. Oh! And a word of warning: Carpet = stopping. Stopping very fast, actually. What a thing to learn with arms full of folded clothing fresh from the dryer. I guess the good thing is that they, at the very least, padded my fall. The loverly bruise on my knee and on my lower rib cage? Well..they are finally fading to a delightful shade of putrid yellow. Nice. I'm beginning to think Amy and Brittany may be right: A helmet is probably a good idea. Even more funny was the fact that when I went to get my hair cut this morning, Anthony talked about sponsoring the Roller Derby teams in town and trying to learn to skate. I told him where I bought mine because he was having a hard time finding quad skates and I told him of my antics at trying to teach myself so far. After he stopped laughing, he said I should go talk to the girls, as they might need comic releif in the upcoming season.
Yeah..he's a funny guy, isn't he?
And since I am the clumsiest girl ever, of course it is a fantastic idea for me to go skiing tomorrow....
I'm sorry, just typing that made me laugh. Let's be honest here, Rhea will, in all probability, not be skiing. I will be falling. A lot. So there will be a veritable rainbow coloring my body in the near future. Of course, to go skiing, one needs pants. Snow pants.
Do you know how damn hard it is to find snow pants in this town? I finally found a pair of boys overall thingies in black at wal-mart (shudder....wal-mart mere days before christmas). So I've brought them home for the final test: Do they fit?
Oh. Dear. Jesus.
I look like an overcooked Stay Puff Marshmallow Man with breasts. But they fit. Put the the coat on....my new sensible water proof gloves...top it off with the hat...
And now I appear to be an overfed mental patient who has wandered free of the institution.
So much for looking like one of those cute little snow bunnies on the slopes. Since I can't ski--I had at least hoped to appear adorable enough for someone to stop and help me up when I inevitably fall on my ass.
Crap.
Can't I ever catch a break?
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Status--Day One: Feeling Good! Just 11 more to go!
Weekend? What weekend?
Between working on Saturday (thankfully we weren't too busy...just busy enough) and then heading out to dinner and downtowning with some friends and then family stuff on Sunday..um. Yea. Where did my weekend go again?
The only bonus? My laundry is kind of caught up.
Kind of. I don't think I've been home for more than 3 hours (with the exception of sleep) in over two weeks. I should be tired..but I'm not.
Will wonders never cease?
So.
I'm on my way to being a gym rat. Well, sort of. Maybe.
I think I will still do my weights at home (tons of muscly type guys there last night working with the equipment..and while last night I was with a chatty bunch--and NOT shy at all, I am sort of the opposite with strangers. Especially when I'm sweating. And they are ripped enough to kill me with their bare hands.) but tonight, I think the rowing machine is calling my name.
Shocking tidbit: I almost did crew in college.
But they expected you to be up at the ass crack of dawn in the cold and then get in even colder water...needless to say, someone was delusional. And it wasn't me.
However, rowing is a fantastic way to tighten up..and since I like it, and they have a machine sitting right there, right there in front of the TV even, what's stopping me?
Nada.
My first night in I ended up doing a little over five miles on the bike and three miles on the elliptical. Not bad, not bad at all.
So..my goal is to do at least 9 miles tonight and the rowing machine.
I feel pretty good actually.
We shall see if this trend continues!
Oh! And the best part of my day (well..sort of this morning since I didn't get home until midnight)..my skates are here!
And yes, I did put them on and goof about in the house. Hmm. It's probably good that I live alone sometimes, huh?
Between working on Saturday (thankfully we weren't too busy...just busy enough) and then heading out to dinner and downtowning with some friends and then family stuff on Sunday..um. Yea. Where did my weekend go again?
The only bonus? My laundry is kind of caught up.
Kind of. I don't think I've been home for more than 3 hours (with the exception of sleep) in over two weeks. I should be tired..but I'm not.
Will wonders never cease?
So.
I'm on my way to being a gym rat. Well, sort of. Maybe.
I think I will still do my weights at home (tons of muscly type guys there last night working with the equipment..and while last night I was with a chatty bunch--and NOT shy at all, I am sort of the opposite with strangers. Especially when I'm sweating. And they are ripped enough to kill me with their bare hands.) but tonight, I think the rowing machine is calling my name.
Shocking tidbit: I almost did crew in college.
But they expected you to be up at the ass crack of dawn in the cold and then get in even colder water...needless to say, someone was delusional. And it wasn't me.
However, rowing is a fantastic way to tighten up..and since I like it, and they have a machine sitting right there, right there in front of the TV even, what's stopping me?
Nada.
My first night in I ended up doing a little over five miles on the bike and three miles on the elliptical. Not bad, not bad at all.
So..my goal is to do at least 9 miles tonight and the rowing machine.
I feel pretty good actually.
We shall see if this trend continues!
Oh! And the best part of my day (well..sort of this morning since I didn't get home until midnight)..my skates are here!
And yes, I did put them on and goof about in the house. Hmm. It's probably good that I live alone sometimes, huh?
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Let the Bloodbath begin...
I'm about to do something potentially dangerous and stupid..but oh well.
Why wait until New Year's to start a resolution when I can do it now?
Thanks to my buddy Amy--I have a a twelve day pass to the uber nice Westview Healthplex...and as the title implies--well, it may not be pretty.
Methinks that I can put in at least an hour a two a day for 12 days straight.
I think I can...I think I can...
After all--what's the point of turning 30 if you won't enjoy it. Meaning..I want to make those 21 year old sorority girls pick their jaws up off the floor. Ha!
And maybe score their boyfriend's phone numbers while we are at it.
Why not? Stranger things have happened...but right now I can't think of any.
At this point, I'm really pumped about my new roller derby style skates..(they look like sneakers with wheels..how cool is that?). Now, they aren't My Little Pony (which I had) or Strawberry Shortcake (ditto), or even Riedells (which I also used to have..I actually used to be pretty good at this stuff), but they are fanfreakingtastically fun! And I'm sure will be the best way to keep the back looking as good as the front (skating does amazing things for the butt people..I'm not kidding).
So as Operation "Get My Ass Moving" starts this weekend, think of me.
And try not to laugh.
Why wait until New Year's to start a resolution when I can do it now?
Thanks to my buddy Amy--I have a a twelve day pass to the uber nice Westview Healthplex...and as the title implies--well, it may not be pretty.
Methinks that I can put in at least an hour a two a day for 12 days straight.
I think I can...I think I can...
After all--what's the point of turning 30 if you won't enjoy it. Meaning..I want to make those 21 year old sorority girls pick their jaws up off the floor. Ha!
And maybe score their boyfriend's phone numbers while we are at it.
Why not? Stranger things have happened...but right now I can't think of any.
At this point, I'm really pumped about my new roller derby style skates..(they look like sneakers with wheels..how cool is that?). Now, they aren't My Little Pony (which I had) or Strawberry Shortcake (ditto), or even Riedells (which I also used to have..I actually used to be pretty good at this stuff), but they are fanfreakingtastically fun! And I'm sure will be the best way to keep the back looking as good as the front (skating does amazing things for the butt people..I'm not kidding).
So as Operation "Get My Ass Moving" starts this weekend, think of me.
And try not to laugh.
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