Wednesday, 12 May 2010

General musings in my scatter brain

  • If I had three boys instead of three girls, I could shave off at least 15 minutes from my morning routine.  Or maybe just shave off their hair.
  • I have sore ankles and am wearing ankle supports.  (Running with a big booty takes it’s toll.)  I’m now wondering if I were to strap them round my feet, if I could make them a smaller size.  Like chinese foot binding.  I could get in to so many cute styles if I had smaller feet.  I’m a size 8 (uk).  Have you seen what’s on offer for size 8’s?  Aside from the ones with the built up soles?  Nasty.
  • People add me to their facebook pages, even though they don’t know who I am, nor me, them.  Strange.  I’m a rubbish friend to the people I DO know.  So don’t make me try and be friends with someone that I have a tenuous link with.  My lousiness can only be stretched so far.
  • I have too many appliances in my house that have broken within the last couple of weeks.  These include, but not limited to (knowing my luck) , my oven, tumble dryer, shower screen and now my washing machine.  I think this is where the term ‘The Total Shaft’, comes in.  I’d like to find the person that made up the saying about things happening in threes, and slap them.  Cos that’s at least 4.  I won’t bore you with all the other little things that are wrong. 
  • Am also now considering becoming really friendly with someone that plays the lottery, so that when they win the Euro Millions, they’ll feel inclined to give me a substantial share in their winnings.  Let me know if you’d like to be this special friend.  I’ll even add you on facebook.
  • I can’t find my eyebrow tweezers.  This means trouble.  Cos I’m spiky.
  • I do LOVE diet Pepsi.  I drink it like you see men drink whiskey in films.  You know, they take a swig and then curl their top lip above their top teeth and take a sharp intake of breath.  This move is also used when trying to tough out pain.  Like when I fell in the bath the other day and fell on a Peppa Pig figurine and smashed it in to my knee. 
  • I’m secretly laughing at everyone that has had their travel plans upset because of the volcano in Iceland.  (Who knew that Iceland had more to offer than just Lazytown?)  I’m only laughing, cos I’m jealous that they had at least the hope of going on holiday.

 

Umm… yeah.  Think that’s it.  I won’t bore you with anything else rattling around in there.  Just now…

Thursday, 6 May 2010

Buns of steel..underneaththejelly.

 

Yeah, so I’ve been gymming.  And why is my spell check underlining this word?  It’s a real word.

My sister had encouraged me to go to a weight resistance class called Body Pump.  And in my desire to look like Jillian Michaels (pfft – yeah, right.  The impossible dream.  She’s got nice hair though too.  Meh – i can’t achieve that either..) I decided to go.

Yeah, that’s me.

Actually imagine a few lbs (it’s my blog, I can lie if I want to)  bigger.  Also, wearing one of Robbie’s old T-shirts, that he got given at work and are emblazoned with DELL and Symantec logos. Also imagine my hair scraped back in one of my daughter’s hairbands and a purple hair elastic.  No cute side sweep fringe like the girl in the pic.  And my men’s trainers, cos all the cute girl trainers are too narrow for my big old flipper feet.  

Well, at least I was there, right?  And I did the class.  And I was  pretty good at it. 

And then, the next day came.

And I was dying a death.  I seriously couldn’t move.  I couldn’t get up and down the stairs.  I had to crawl downstairs.  Backwards.  I couldn’t lift my arms to feed my beach ball face.  (Interesting new diet idea..)  I couldn’t sit down and get up from the loo without rapid breathing and straining, like I was in the latter stages in labour.

And this lasted for about 3 days. 

I’m actually typing this with a special head tapper that I’ve fashioned out of a wire coat hanger, wrapped around my head, with a cotton bud at the end, to press the keys.

Ok, that last statement was a lie.  But everything else is correct.  And I want to know how all the folk on The Biggest Loser manage to be shouted in the face by Jillian Michaels, pushed to the limit, day after day and are still able to get up and down stairs properly…

Until that time, I’m thinking about having this installed…  Sure my muscles are fine now, but stairs are just too taxing anyway..