I wanna see this! And other thoughts

     I still get a kick out of seeing this little guide on the treadmill.  If I saw a 100 year old person jogging on the treadmill….lol,  I’d want the person’s autograph. 

Because they’d be my new hero.

These dumbells are for when you bring your 2 year old to the gym to work out with you….  Everytime I see these dumbells at the gym,  I think “what’s the friggin point!”

I’m actually really relaxed now.  I had a pretty long day.    The gray clouds are here today, after the beautiful sun we had yesterday, and we are supposed to have a good snow this week.  We’ll see. 

  Doug and I went to take pictures but the shots were weak,  Eventually I got a couple though.

  “Unglamorous Christmas” (to be posted) is a photo essay that kind of put itself  together. 

 After I had taken a few photos I was kind of sensing a theme.  The small town decorations of  the Holidays were pretty meager.  Much is to be said for the “lit” version of these shots.

 The whole premise is that Christmas is a celebration of Jesus’ birth.  The celebration; the ‘decoration’ should be on the inside of us.

  Be generous with those who go without this year.  Host a family.  Buy a present for a child in need.  invite someone who needs someone this Christmas.  Wear Christmas decorations of the heart…all year. 

  I am suffering a little bit from blog regret right now.  when i started my blog a couple years ago and i really didn’t have any contact whatsoever with any one that knew me from my home state.  My blog was my pride.  I was free to blog what i wanted, when I wanted, with no regret.

  Now, that certain people have my blog addy, I’m always in a sense, hyper vigilant about what I blog.  Life was better when I was anonymously Sweetiegirlz. 

 I should say somewhat anonymously.

  I feel like I’ve not been true to myself lately by  NOT blogging how I usually blog here. 

 As usual and unfortunately, the people who have known me the longest in my life, have been the most judgemental and critical of me.  It didn’t take long before this “reality check” set in.  I will always be the black sheep.  Always.  As long as I have a connection to them I will be controlled.  Period.

 I  am not sure if I can ever write freely here now.   I may even consider starting a new blog anonymously.  I know of one person I read regularly that had to do this.  That would really suck tho.  Because I enjoy posting photos and I enjoy connecting with people who have been here with me a long time. 

Will there be Pie?

 

and the fests go on people….October fest that is. 

 

 

 Tommorrow evening.  Another photo ops and I’m ready to go with camera in hand. 

 

 

 

 Will they have a table full of pie for 2 dollars a slice?  That IS the question. 

 

 

 

 

   Thursday was sunny and beautiful, and seemed to be raining leaves as the first of the dead leaf purging goes on.  Each easy breeze blew more than a few down from the tree lined roads here on post. 

 

 

 

 

 Great day for playing hooky from work, but I stayed on til 20 minutes before quitting time before getting on to the Gym. 

 

 

 

 

  I had to push myself a lot to even get there.  The whole, bringing gym clothes in a bag to work to change into, seems to be working.  I don’t give myself an excuse to squirm out of workouts. 

 

 

 

 

 I wish it worked that good for food.  I’m the burger king queen obviously.  They know me like a celeb in the drive thru, where one of the young men who work there actually asked me,

 

 

 

 

 

“srsly, do you cook though?”

 

 

 

 

  (*of course I cook smartie, geez!)

 

 

 

  Now there’s a sure sign I need to cut back on the breakfasts there, but those of you who’ve been reading for a while now,  have you ever known me to quit for long? 

 

 

 

 

 I’m like a Burger King Junkie or something!

 

 

 

   Now there is a place I like going a lot besides burger hurger.  It’s Starbucks!

 

 

 

  No, not for the coffee.  For their apple/raisin bran  muffins.    Which i found out, quiet cruelly are NOT there on a daily basis. 

 

 

 

 According to the nice too-perky-for-morning-shift- barista, I will be taking my chances as to what muffins are there for breakfast.  

 

 

 

 

 So to the gym I went this afternoon,  the goal being 3 days a week. But I struggle with even that to tell you the truth.  I don’t know why people struggle with stuff that in the end is good for them.

 

 

 

  All those endorphins kicking around afterward relieve stress.   Okay, and they make me sleep hard. 

 

 

 

 Sleep, and then awake to the “party-fied”  version of my living room where I just found Little A passed out,  with every conceivable kind of treat littering the tables, the counters, the couch.  

 

 

 

  I hate when she does that!  

 

 

 

 So here I am, blogging at midnight,   no real thoughts bouncing off the noggin, just really mellow and ready to enjoy that sleep-without-snore night. 

Thoughts from The Saturday night stay at home Queen

Want me to be brutally honest? Even when he and I are together, doing stuff out on the town, I’m not really sure how close we are.

  Not in heart anyway.  This after a fantastic Friday out? 

 When I get to the end of a great time out, there’s always a detour somewhere… into conflict. 

Friday started with:

Spinach salad with fresh blackberries and raspberries.  Rolled whole wheat tortilla with hummus and turkey. Pasta with chicken and mushroom and fresh tomatoes ala crockpot.  fresh fruit. 

 Friday, we ate (and ate well) at work.  A farewell potluck.  I have discovered that I love potlucks.  Oh there was pizza and fried chicken too.  But mainly there is also something healthy there, and I love eating healthy nowdays.  The potlucks helped Friday to be happy. 

 

 

 

I wouldn’t call the last couple days crazy.  Hilly in places?  yep.  Lot’s of unexpected turn offs?  uh huh.  It’s life how I expected it to be.  I couldn’t complain. 

 Even when I lost my children and didn’t know where they were Friday. 

 They insist on wandering while I’m at work.  So I came home around Lunch to find them g-o-n-e.  OH Yeah.  I was pissed. 

 

 

Big A, as it turns out hangs out.

  A lot.

with a boy,

 and a girl, and a girl. 

 Mostly the boy I think.  And not saying he’s not a nice boy.  

 

 

 Just, not time for this Big A.  you are soooo still a child!  I don’t care if you do have boobs. 

 You will be checking in with me every hour for the rest of your time here in this house. 

Little A?  She’s a wanderer like me, but “I forgot” will not suffice for me. 

 You will be here.

  All day, every day, until I get tired of seeing you around (or until you don’t “forget” to check in anymore)

   After all that,  I skipped out for the evening, confident that the gurlz were sufficiently scared to eva leave the house again! 

 

*the gurlz not listening to us, especially big A are causing conflicts between He and I.   He wants to throw a “ hand grenade” of discipline  in the middle of her life,

 

I am the more “trying to understand her” parent with firmness and consistency within reasonable boundaries.

 

Could we be anymore far removed from each other in parenting styles and most other things in life.  Don’t think so.  It’s a wonder we’ve been together this long. 

 We saw “hangover” 

Now.  I know movie trailers that have given away the whole movie before.  It’s a sure sign the movie itself is boring. 

 But this movie trailer had given away NOTHING.  Trust me *big grin* 

 If you have a few bucks and you feel like laughing your hind end off for a whole hour and a half..

.two words:  SEE IT!!!  You have to. 

 

 There are more laughs in here, than I think I ever laughed at one movie,  OMG.  My gut hurt by the end of it. 

 Okay, and don’t bring your kid.  It’s rated R for a reason.

  Oh and I don’t even wanna mention, sexy-the very definition of- 

 radleybay oopercay. 

 Because last time I wrote that particular movie star’s name in my blog, my blog hits went through the roof! 

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t mind except I want to be known for my blog stats because they are Sweetiegirlz posts and not ride on the name of a good movie star. So reluctantly I removed his picture and name from that blog.

 

The one sad part?  for me was watching the wedding in the movie.

  I mean a real wedding.  One with flowers and cake, and family and a preacher, and music and fun and celebration. 

  I’ve been married twice and I never had that.  So, watching one on TV or movies always gets me    

 

 

  Before that, we went to Dave and Busters for dinner.  Which always has good food.  I had quesadillas with no jalepenos and smartie Doug told the guy, he wanted them on the side, and he would eat them.

  What happened?  Well he mixed them with his food and discovered:  less is more in the spicy pepper department.  Spicing up a blackened chicken meal with Jalepenos?  lololol.  yeah.

I’m still running.  Okay jogging.  

alright sometimes jogging, sometimes fast walking.

But there ARE changes.  Wanna see?    Warning.  Those of you allergic to fat pigs go back now:

 

This is December 2008:

Fatty McFat Fat

 

 

That was then.  No wonder people asked me when my baby was due. geez.

 

 

*this is now.  

 

  I’m not where I want to be yet.   Only about half way.  To be honest.  Dieting SUCKs.  I miss my Coca Cola.   But I’d rather be slim. 

So we excercised this morning again.  Early.  It was sprinkling this morning but it felt great on my skin.  Kind of cool and breezy.   Even now, it’s evening at dusk and it’s really breezy and balmy.  If I close my eyes, I can just imagine myself on the beach of an island.  Except that it’s Kansas and all I hear is kids and dogs outside.             

3 miles NO Sweat!

 

Little A.   then

Doug

then

Big A….  all suffering today from the high pollen count.    I can tell you it wasn’t fun for them.  The only reason I didn’t get all puny was because I had allergy shots like10 years ago.  i’m now immune to most pollen here in the midwest.   I felt bad for them.  they were armed with pills, nasal sprays, inhalers.  they are just now feeling better and it’s because they’ve been in the house in the air conditioning for a few hours. 

The pollen count today:

Kansas City, MO

Thursday, June 04, 2009 Previous

Summary
Location	Pollen (cubic Meter)	Mold (cubic Meter)
Downtown	136  High	7237  Moderate

I don’t mind telling you.  I almost succumbed to laziness.  For the past 2 or 3 days, I found my bed before I found my running shoes.  Today even, I lay there debating:

I should really get up and go running.

 

 

 

 

 Nah!! I’ll just go tommorrow and eat less all day.

 

I really need to keep excercising consistently…didn’t Doug just kid me about my gut just today??

 

But it’s soooo, pollen-y and stuff outside!

 

Okay, don’t complain when you have a second ass in front of your other one!

 

 

But I everyone’s sleeping…why can’t I?

You’re undoing all your hard work! 

But…but…

Go! 

Okaaaaayyy….

so little A and I went to the track.  Teenagers were there.  just hanging out.  one girl in a teeny tiny tank top and shortie short shorts was hanging out with S-I-X  dudes. ugh!  Of course I thought of Big A.  No way in God’s green Earth would she be caught with 6 other dudes just hanging out in skimpy clothes. 

Anyway,  running okay!  The track is not a treadmill.  A treadmill moves you with momentum.   When you run outside it’s all you babeeee.  Ugh I hate it.  But after the first lap i was sucking in so much air I was ready to give up.  I ran 2 and walked 1.   Little A was my gatorade girl. lol.     I was reminded of this cadence while shuffling along, not so much a run but a fight…with myself!

I hope I won!

No Sweat

 

One mile – No Sweat
Two mile – Better yet
Three miles – Gotta run
Four miles – Just for fun
Come on – Let’s go
We can go – Through the snow
We can run – To the sun
We train – In the rain
A-I
R-B
O-R
N-E
Can you be – Like me?
Airborne – Infantry

 

 

~An Army Cadence still sung/recited today

Relax- a- palooza

There’s a feeling of ultra “laid-back-a-tude” here.

  It’s so peace and “quiet-y” I just don’t know what to do with myself.

 

 

  Don’t get me wrong, there’s the gurlz regular moody sister fights.  But on the whole, there’s peace. Which is great, and beats the heck out of the alternative. 

 

 

 I’ve been jogalking (jog/walk) or waljogging or jollywalking..this morning and yesterday, and out of  curiosity  I finally drove with my car and figured out the mileage to be 4 miles not 5, as I originally guessed.

 

 To pump your heart for 4 miles straight is still some great excercise.  Just to be alone and at peace with the world for that hour is amazing. 

 

 

After we all had showers,  I took those gurlies who were playing X box 360 all morning and brought them Mickey D’s,  on the way to the mall theater to see  Night At the Smithsonian which is really the second part of Night at the Museum  with Ben Stiller. 

  It’s a cute movie, nice family movie, no risque crap, no cussing and nothing crazy but just funny and fun.  I don’t wanna spoil it, so I’ll just say take your kids to see it, they’ll love it.

 

*I happen to love Ricky Gervais’ accent a lot, though he was a lot better  in Ghost Town. I am a  BIG sucker for foreign accents!  I do swoon over the minor details,  babeeee.

 

I got a big kick out of two VERY elderly ladies sitting in front of us, enjoying the movie too.  However, they had the big gray poofy hair and it took all my reservation to keep from lofting just one popcorn kernel in that poofy hair.  (yeah, i told you sweetiegirlz was immature didn’t I)

    Once the gurlz calmed down from their obligatory arguing in public/embarassing the crap out of me, they liked the movie and actually tolerated being in close quarters with each other, but at one point I really thought I was going to have to drag their butts out of there and go home.

 

  Big A: Mom, make little A stop rocking in her seat 100 times a minute and crunching loud! 

 Little A:  I can do it if I want.

(the movie seats are soft leather and yes, you can rock back and forth in them if you are so inclined) 

Big A:  Mom! 

 Me:  She can rock if she wants to

Big A to Little A:  STOP now, MOM!

ME:  *making that mommy hissing sound*  Stop it you two!  No shopping after this! 

  Little A:  Hear that?  No shopping for you! 

 Big A: No shopping  for YOU, you mean!

  Me:   S-h-u-t  IT! 

*by this time the people in back of us, who had 4 well behaved BOYS btw, pretty much thought I was talking to them and I felt thankful that the theater was dark so no one would see my face burning red with humiliation.

Big A:  Crackhead! 

 Little A: retard! 

Me: arrrggghhh!!! 

 

 

 Soon they shut up by default so we did, we DID go shopping, as only gurlz know how to do… 

 It’s an outdoor mall that we frequent often, and there’s no tired husband to drag around, so we giggled and we shopped and we tried on crazy fake jewelry, and sunglasses.  They settled  for pink and blue sunglasses respectively. 

We spent 14 doggone dollars on Aunty Anne’s pretzels and lemonade.  For those of  you who aren’t familiar with  this place, they are pretzels, 

 pretzels twice as big as your hand…

 but to me that doesn’t justify the price gouging. lol  3.50 for a pretzel.

 okay they’re good    really good.  geez.

 

 

  So  to me justifying the means to an end was fitting in a second jog this evening, on the track this time. 

 Do you know my shins hurt and I don’t care? 

 

 

Do you know, I’ll be out “joglawking” again tommorrow morning prolly even earlier.  It’s fun.

  It’s “me” time.  It’s… it’s… okay, so I hate my body.

    I hate it.  there.  I said it. 

 I never should have let more than 120 pounds get on it in the first place.  

 

I have this fear lurking in the back of my head, like in the movie CLICK with Adam Sandler, when he loses a bunch of weight when he’s huge, and he’s in the hospital playing with all the loose skin on his belly. 

 

 His wife of course says:  stop that and Adam Sandler says: ” It’s my flap and I can play with it if I want to!”  I kind of hate to see what all this weight loss will actually do, although i wasn’t huge to start out with.

When we were walking from the track field to the car, my girlz both saw my varicosed veins on my left leg and  my fading  scars from getting mauled by a tiger my own pet cat 2 years ago. 

Their alarms were going off at the same time:  “MOM!  Your leg.  I can see your veins!!”  

 Of course I already knew that my leg had been screwed up for years now. Apparently  I’ve done an amazing job at hiding this from my gurlz.

 

 I went to a vein clinic in 2002 back in Clarksville Tennesee and it was that exact day where I had a huge anxiety attack and financially, never got another chance to get sclerotherapy done again. 

 

 

  Maybe after my vacation coming up.  I mean shots for this are around 150 bucks  a pop, and it’s considered cosmetic surgery, so that the military doesn’t pay for it for me.

 

 

 Unfortunately, it’s a fact of life.  My legs, I once considered the best of my physical features now looks like shit.  Okay, only the left one, but still…

 

So yes, I am wobbly right now.  I feel nice and relaxed though.  I will sleep pretty good tonight, I think except for getting up to let the dogs out at midnight, and o’dark thirty last night. 

 It’s so funny, when “he’s” here the dogs  sleep all night like babies and never whine to be let out. 

 

Go figure.  I hope that you all are having a great memorial day weekend and great kick off to summer, and that srsly, you enjoy being as active as possible in the coming weeks.

Superflabluous

  

So I’ll admit, I was on the couch, just finishing watching America’s Top Model.  So you think I jumped up and ran outside and started jogging right?  HA. 

  I wasn’t going anywhere….until “he” wanted me to.  Even the DOG wanted to go for a walk, but I didn’t.

  I’m kinda losing my resolve to excercise at this point.  And yet I know that excercising aerobically is probably the only way I will be able to burn calories.  So I went.

  It was twilight and 57 degrees by the huge digital temperature sign outside the bowling alley.  and it wasn’t half bad.

 

Superfluous: (dicitionary.com) –adjective        

1.	being more than is sufficient or required; excessive.

=  Superflabluous:  (sweetiegirlz) 

1.           having more flab than is sufficient or required; excessively flabby

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Congruent: (dictionary.com)

adjective

1.	agreeing; accordant; congruous

Congluent: (sweetiegirlz)

1.    agreeing that your stomach is mushy and white like glue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Excercise: (dictionary.com)

noun

1.	bodily or mental exertion, esp. for the sake of training or improvement of health

Nixcercise: (sweetiegirlz)

verb (used with object) 

1.to veto; refuse to agree to excercise   

“next-her-cise”  What sweetiegirlz will be if she doesn’t keep excercising.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And I’m saying like WTF, after over half a year, I should be slimmer don’tcha think. 

 And then I remembered all those times I had pizza,  and candy,  and went out to eat, and burger king and soda… lot’s of soda.  crap.  I’m 44. At this metabolic rate I’ll be a really skinny senior citizen.

   I went to the drive thru the other morning after not going for like a whole week or so and the guy at the drive thru says: hey, long time no see!  

  You know you’re not on a diet when people know you at the freaking drive through.  

 Then today, I was at work like an hour and half before I came home to stay with little A who is sick.  We had a fundraising breakfast, and there’s like this whole array of food there.

  Breakfast pie?  I still don’t know who made it but it’s a PIE.  A pie with eggs and bacon….who can resist that?

  At least I had fruit and ice water also.  but then Sherry comes in and goes, “Hey I just brought in apple cinnamon crisps.  Take some home to your kids…”  and then I do, and I end up eating  them MYSELF.   

 I love dieting. 

Why don’t I look better than I do in this picture?  I’m on a seafood diet. I see food, and I eat it.    

 

Knocked Up On The Brain

From Across the room in one of the clinics in our health center where I work, a curious exchange of words is taking place:

 

 

Female worker who sorta-semi knows me, compliments me.  “You look nice today”

Me: Thank you! *smiling*

Her: (mouths across the room at me silently~~a-r-e  y-o-u  p-r-e-g-n-a-n-t??? while simultaneously making a sweeping gesture with her hand across her own belly.

Me:  *out loud* and kinda in a not so great mood anymore:  NOOOOOO.

Her:  Yes???!!!

Me: NO!

Her:  Well you look like you are.

Me: Thanks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Surely I must be doing something wrong in the gym every 3 to 4 days I go there.

 

 

  Surely the 5 mile walks I go on must be impregnating me and simultaneously hypnotizing people to make dumb ass comments about my gut.

 

 

  Of course, the salads I eat and the going without doughnuts and cookies and potato chips must be causing me to gain unwanted pounds by the hour.

 

 

   Or maybe people are just rude, inconsiderate and stupid.  

 I haven’t decided yet,  I’m too busy frying up some donuts in my fry daddy. 

No shortcuts for Sweetie

Diet.

  Is it a coinky-dink that it starts with the word “die”? 

 

   I have held off on the dieting part of this fitness routine for a week longer than I wanted to, waiting for payday.  Why payday?

 

 

  Because then I will have the extra money to adjust my uhhh “DIEt”  and make stuff, and cook and get psyched about eating tasteless non fat foods for Lord knows how long, until I lose weight and longer.

 

 

 Life style change ya know… At least that is what all the trainers tell us.   I’m trying to fit a 1400 calorie low carb diet into a cheeseburger and coke loving psyche. 

 

  I’m trying to get used to the fact that just to SMELL chocolate cake, I’ve used up 200 of my alotted calories. 

 

 

 I’m trying to convince myself that egg whites are just as good as the whole eggs, and vegetable pizza really isn’t as tasteless as it was tonight when Doug and I ordered it.

 

  I’m trying to…*sigh*  I’m trying. 

 

   I plan on cooking and freezing stuff on weekends for the week, to take to work for lunch and breakfast. 

 

 Egg beaters and turkey sausage on wheat tortillas anyone? 

 

 How bout HALF a bagel with peanut butter? 

 

 How but a V8 instead of Coca Cola?   

 (yuck actually) 

 

 

 Getting fit is having it’s results already.  I have been trotting around that track since July (okay, on and off)  I’m getting happy with the transforming of the Sweetie bod.

 

 

I added the weightlifting last week

leg press 180 pounds

upper abs 50 pounds

Tri and Bi ceps 20 pounds

lat shoulders  50 pounds

quads 70 pounds

chest 50 pounds

3 sets of 12 reps.

Cardio:  30 minute treadmill  @ mod Fat burn pace.

 

 

It’s a work in progress, I know. 

Today, all of us from work went out to eat lunch at the Mexican restaurant.

  Then we went back to the office and an hour or so later, someone brought in a chocolate birthday cake for one of the ladies, and there was sugar cookies in the corner shaped like pumpkins and covered in orange sugars.

  Can anyone tell me what the heck am I supposed to do about that scenario?  

 gnaw on some baby carrots?  Sip my ice water?  excuse myself?   I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it…..

 

Getting My Groove Back

My body stay vicious,
I be up in the gym just working on my fitness,
He’s my witness .
I put yo’ boy on rock, rock,
And he be lining down the block just to watch what I got

~FERGIE/FERGALICIOUS

 

Is there anything more bliss than finding that you have the tools at hand to complete a goal?  

 Yes,  you may find that by belonging to the Army in some way, you have access to a huge Gym, Pool, Cardio room and State of the Art weight room…

for free.

 

Well, I’d gone into the gym before of course.  (don’t give me that look!  I have too gone into the gym here) 

 

 I just never worked out there before today.  I’m so impressed with what i have to work with, I told “him” ,  “I think I will live here now, thankyou.”

Give me a few weeks, people.

 

Sweetiegirlz will be the spokesperson for the mid-life milfs of america!

 

 

  I ran and ran and ran, MP3 player on blast. 

 Doug ran on the treadmill next to me, eyeballing CNN on the big TV’s on the wall. 

I read the treadmill’s recommendations for keeping your pulse in certain ranges to either burn fat or work your heart muscle. 

 

 The pulse rates were written on the front of the treadmill by age. 

 

I laughed out loud when I saw the ages went all the way up to 100 years old! (Fat burning range is 79 for 100 year olds btw)

 

  I doubt many 100 year old people are using the company’s machines. 

Maybe oxygen machines…

 

  We also lifted weights finally, weight machines so state of the art, that they take all the guesswork out of reps, negative and positive force, and…get this… they count the friggin’ Reps FOR you and beep when you don’t follow all the way through with the movement! 

 

  A little LED screen scrolls by:  Congratulations, you completed…12 reps!  To repeat set,  press repeat.

 

GAH!!! I’m in love with a weight machine people!  

 

  By the way, we could not run on the track because the Junior High had a football game tonight.  Doug jokes around,  “we can still run there”  Yah…um, NO!    Sweetie is an open book but not THAT open! 

 

 

So, I am happy now because I wasn’t sure if i would have the energy after work to not only work out, but also eventually join the kickboxing twice a week, which is a 25 minute drive away on weeknights. 

 

This is one class i do not wish to join before I can do cardio to my satisfaction and I have the energy after work to drive and attend class! 

 

  People think kickboxing is kicking other people’s asses. It’s not. 

 

 By the time you are done with class you will feel like you have kicked your OWN ass!   It’s that strenuous cardio wise.

 

Work is coming along nicely.  I am finally getting it down.  I feel oh so important in my suits and pumps. It’s a pleasure to finally fix hair and do makeup for a good reason.

  Seeing many people coming and going all day is fun for me. 

 

Whatever Doug does at work, he’s famous.  Everyday the staff never fail to introduce me as his “wife”.    “Have you met SSG B.’s wife yet?” they say.  Today my supervisor teased me:

 

“He comes in here [to the office where i work] an awful lot lately.” she laughs,

  “He never used to come in here this much!” 

 

We came home today for lunch to let Sugar and Prince out for excercise.   It’s a relaxing lunch hour.  The whole work thing is just bliss.   I know…I know…visit me in say a year and see if I’m still saying that, right?

 

I’m just glad not to be isolated from other humans any more.  Way glad.

Goals: I has Them

Lucky that my lips not only mumble

They spill kisses like a fountain

Lucky that my breasts are small and humble

So you don’t confuse them with mountains

Lucky I have strong legs like my mother

To run for cover when I need it~

~SHAKIRA/WHENEVER WHEREVER

 

GOAL:  Serious “Milf-y ness”   with a capital ‘M’.

 

    Screw you 43!  I’m 27 starting today. (if you’re counting that makes me a mommy at age 3. haha.

 

   I believe I am entitled to all those years I lost while I was busy being “Mrs. Stewart” for 6 years, the zombie, loner, home slave  with no self esteem.

   

What a bad marriage won’t do for your self esteem, the putting on of a little mid- life weight will! 

 

Fitness was easy when I went in the Army.  You got your hiny out of your bunk at 4 a.m.  They gave you a good long F I V E  M I N U T E S to get downstairs, and before you were even awake, you had your nose in the wet grass doing push ups.   

 

The drill sergeant gave you a good smoking for 40 minutes before you ran for 2 or 3 miles in a group, singing cadence all the way, mind you. 

 

Sweetiegirlz is not good at motivating herself…

 

  For most of July and August and September, I have been half- ass running.  Half- ass dieting. 

 

Now, tommorrow, Sweetiegirlz plows into full fitness mode.  Tommorrow.

 

  Burger King~bye bye Mr. Plastic Ass face with the cheesy tots and addicting sanmiches.  

 

 Mickey D’s~  I join Tony from Australia,  Ronald McMacca’s ur time is up!

 

   Coke,  I haven’t decided if i’ll sue you.  I still think there’s some of that ‘real thing’ in your uhhh… product.  If there wasn’t, how else could I be addicted to this for years and years?  

 

Ben and Jerry’s, you’re history.  And I swear if you follow PETA’s advice and use breast milk in your ice cream you will NEVER see me again.  (even on my birthday)  I’ll scoop snow (cause my birthday’s in winter,  put it in a cone and lick it instead.

 

So yeah, getting by ‘that time’ without cravings is probably going to be hell.  I don’t care.

 

  I want a sexy stomach. (I think the stomach is the most erotic of all body parts on a woman. the chest and arms for guys)

 

  I want to run 2 miles finally without stopping.  I want to outlift my husband.    All that’s in between this and now,  is 25 pounds.   25 freakin’ POUNDS.   I’ve lost 14 before.  I know how to do it.  I just need the ….’where with all’.

 

 

Maybe I need to hire that beeotch from the biggest loser:

She’s so MEAN to those fat folks!

 

No wait.  I want to be able to kick her azzzzz  in the gym and on the track by next year, and I’m not gonna let a little coca cola stand in my way!

Srsly.