I really, really like weightlifing. I mean, like, for the first time in my life I look forward to exercise. I break it up by doing 10 minute intervals on the eliptical, and after yesterday’s fiasco of a non-workout, it felt soooo good today.
Some music is awesome for weightlifing. For instance, the Dropkick Murphys. PERFECT heavy music. Red Hot Chili Peppers are also good. Lady Gaga and No Doubt are great for on the treadmill or eliptical. Sarah Maclaughlin? As much as I love her, she is not gym music.
Well, my taste in men has sadly not changed. I’m still drawn (and draw) the same burly guys I’ve always drawn. I’m trying really hard to change that. When it’s time to start dating again, I don’t want to follow the same old patterns- it worked out SO well for me in the past. I’m purposely looking away from the barrel chested guys lifting heavy iron at the gym. No eye contact, no smiles. Serious business. Can I still like bald heads though?
Oh man, a man in a kilt is one of the hottest things on earth. That is all.
Larabars are SOOOO good. They’re all real food with no preservative or gluten or soy or ickiness, and I can toss one in my bag and stave off the crazy burger cravings post-weightlifting.
I have the best friends on earth. I’ve had some crappy luck in the past, but I know some insanely cool people, and count myself really, really blessed.
When we got home from the gym, someone had gone to our old house and disassembled the Rainbow play fort and brought it to Little House. I don’t even know who to call and thank, but it’s sitting in the yard waiting to be re-assembled. Bean and Abby were giddy and jumping for joy. Really. Real jumping. Real Joy.
Working on another painting. Yes, it’s the one I should be working on. Maybe this time it will actually be presentable. I’m almost holding my breath.