1.We have mice in our sunroom. I was freaked out several times yesterday. Now I'm just annoyed. Mousetraps freak me out and W. is working all day today. He told me to have Five deal with the catch, but I can't even set the damn thing. *shudder*

2. I'm suddenly freakishly addicted to eating biscuit dough. WTF this came from I have no idea. Probably some vitamin deficiency or something (how that can be, I have no idea since I eat such a healthy, balanced diet of bagels, popcorn, swiss cheese and grilled chicken I have no idea).

3. In a probably-not-unrelated note, I had to pull out my 'fat' jeans Friday. Pissed me the fuck off like you cannot imagine. Did I go work out? No. I ordered a chicken sandwich combo and chocolate chip cookie dough pie at Burger King. I did give away the drink. most of the fries and half the sandwich to people (thank you, John, for saving me from the sandwich). The pie? I ate the whole damn thing myself. It is a little slice of heave loaded with high fructose corn syrup, xanthan gum (no, I don't know what that is), white flour and up to 2% choclate liquor. Buy it. Eat it. Live it.

4. I do not like the way the tanning bed smells. Every tanning bed smells the same...is it the scent of cooking flesh? I know it is unhealthy. I know this, but I have tried the tanning lotions and just don't like them. I like to be tan. I'm vain in my old age. I can't help it. I don't have the pretty porcelain (I can't spell for jack) skin that some pale people do. I have the pasty, shut-in look instead.

5. Saturday School was a colassal waste of my time--I didn't do anything useful until the last hour, when I cleaned up my classroom.

6. I'm tired of television.

7. I've also read the entire internet this weekend. Am bored shitless this morning and too cold and sore (my back is going to be the death of me) to do anything productive at home.

8. I need a new hairstyle. I'm trying curly this weekend. I might take pics and get feedback.

9. Am skipping the prom for the Cornbread Festival this year. I think this officially makes me a redneck nerd.

10. I am more than ready for school to be DONE. I have to proctor TCAPS four days next week, which means no planning period for me for those four days. Thank God I stocked up on books. I will have six hours that I am forced to sit in a room and look around every fifteen minutes or so. I didn't grade yesterday because I decided to save it for that time.

Please Join Me In A Collective Sigh Of Relief

I have finally found a style of underwear that I like. Yay me!! Turns out that I **do** in fact like Hanes Boyshorts--the ones I tried last summer were just too small. Now I wear them and they are super comfortable. I went out and bought myself two more packs of them because I was tired of having to wash the same three pair over and over.

I have a drawer full of underwear that looked like it would be comfortable, but isn't. I don't donate undies to Goodwill and I hate to throw things away, so I'm sure they'll sit there in the drawer until I have to throw them away to make room for my new comfy boyshorts. Now I can spend my money on something else--maybe jewelry? I need a good gold bangle--not real gold because I'm too cheap.

Look Before You Puff

I'm now a card-carrying, auto-paying member of the local YMCA. This in and of itself is rather amusing since I'm fairly sure no one who knows me or just happens to see me would think, "She likes exercise", but I have accepted the fact that one cannot look like an exerciser without actually exercising. So, I go.

Just getting there is an adventure--see the Embarrassing Post below for one of many examples--because I'm not particularly good at keeping up with things such as sneakers, Y cards, gym bags and all that. I have one bag that I've used as a workout bag for years that I finally unearthed at work. It was under my desk and filled with remnants from our trip to the state fair (in September) and numerous elementary drama books that I evidently decided to move from home to school. Or something. I don't actually know where they came from or why they were in the bag. My memory is totally blank. But I found the bag, which was the important part.

I have one really bad knee and one almost-as-bad-but-not-surgically-altered-knee, so now that I've decided to be all fit and shit, I am having to be cautious when I do any sort of cardio. I'm taking water aerobics 2x per week and going to the fitness center two or three days, too. I used to be a treadmill kind of girl, but that was before the knee and everyone tells me that I need to be very careful using the treadmill since there is a lot of shock on the knee. I've done it, but not much. It did hurt a little bit, but not terribly. But the treadmill gets sort of boring, even when I get to watch the little attache television (frankly, one of the main reason I like to go to the gym at night is to watch TNT uninterrupted).

I've tried the recumbant bike (see previous post) and I like it, but I realize that I have to mix things up, so, I decided to give the ol' elliptical machine another try. Pre-surgery, I couldn't do the stupid thing because it absolutely killed my knee. Oh, and I was such a fat slug that it nearly killed me, too. I finally gave up even trying at my old gym...it was too depressing.

I vowed to try again--after all, how hard can it be? There are scads of people on the things every time I'm in there and they are all just flitting around on the things like they haven't a care in the world. So, I try since my knee is slightly better, but I quickly decide that I'm still a fat slug because that machine? It is of the devil. Satan has an entire room filled with those suckers just waiting on me in hell (on a fresh carpet of Easter grass and Legos with a soundtrack of bluegrass and rap music in the background, I'm sure). How the HELL do those perky little wenches jump up and down on the damn things like they're on trampolines or something? I can go for miles on the bike or treadmill, but on this? I think I did .5 in 10 minutes. And that was as far as I could go. I laugh at the little signs posted on each machine that says, "during peak times of 5pm to 7pm, please limit your time on this machine to 30 minutes." ROFLMAO. Okay, no problem. I'll be glad to spend 30 minutes on it--can I just stand there and watch television for 20 minutes or so?

After the whopping 10-minute workout, my thighs were burning, my calves were in knots and I was wheezing, which is always attractive and impressive in a gym setting. I realized that I didn't want to die of an asthma attack in the YMCA--even I have some pride--so, I staggered from the fitness area to my locker, dug around in my gym bag, finally found my inhaler tucked under a brush and some lotion and a plethora of flotsam left over from the fair trip and I puffed.

And then I nearly died.

Why? Well, because it had been in the bottom of my tote along with some Cheez-It crumbs. I inhaled fucking Cheez-Its into my lungs and that, my friends, burns like a sombitch. Glass shards, ricin, volcanic ash and Cheez-It crumbs. All can be lethal. It took me several minutes to recover and be able to breathe normally. After that, cardio was done for this fat girl. I decided to take my chances in the pool since there is lots of humidity that I figured would be healing on my poor, scarred lungs.

I'll be back on that damn machine come Monday because now it's a challenge--I have to be able to do better (albeit when it is not crowded in the fitness area because I don't like flailing in front of fit folks), but in the future I will use the inhaler before I step on the stupid machine...after I've checked for foreign objects, of course.