Ladies, I figured out the best time to shop for groceries.
Thursday nights at 10:30 p.m. The aisles are clear, there are no ugly kids poking your butt, the fruits are fresh, and the best part?
The stock boys are young, fit, friendly, and easy on the eyes.
Pow!
10.30.2008
10.24.2008
10.22.2008
Today ...
My subdivision has provided early voting; suh-weet. Today I voted for a President/VP, a U.S. senator, a U.S. representative, a railroad commissioner, several justices and judges, a state senator, a state representative, and on two propositions.
After I emerged from the voting booth, a nice office lady put this sticker on my blouse, which I then wore to run errands throughout the day.
I love voting.
10.15.2008
Yeah, I don't know either.
I was messing with iPhoto and Photo Booth, thermal style.
Really, I have no idea.
10.13.2008
Dear Journal: memory lane
For some unknown reason, I felt compelled to pull four of my high school journals off my bookshelf. I wrote so much in 1988 through 1990--mostly as assignments during my freshman and sophomore year.
I cannot stop cracking up at some of the thoughts I conveyed on paper--and for my teacher to read? Yikes! It was as though I had a real friend named Journal rather than realizing that my English teacher would be reading my most private thoughts, emphasized with my cussing here and there.
I wrote constantly about my infatuations with Richard Grieco, New Kids on the Block, and the rock band, Poison. And did you know? I could carry a crush from seventh to tenth grade. I continually professed my love for "John" then bad-mouthed him a few pages thereafter. Plus you could easily tell I was going through puberty because of my nonstop complaints about acne and how the $80 Retin A wasn't helping. I was reminded of my dream to become an astronaut for NASA or fly planes for the Air National Guard. Several entries proved that I adored my little brother and sister with their little drawings as part of my journal. In high school, I had already decided that my first kid would be named Blue, and if my husband didn't agree, "I'd make him." I closed many of my write-ups by declaring that I was just so absolutely tired. In an entry I wrote in 1989, I stated that my hobbies were "reading, watching new movies, listening to music, and doing homework." Doing homework? Ai-ya-yai.
There were two entries in which I had to invent something. The first was an eye spray--just hold the spray can 10 inches from your eyes and spray! It would change your eye color and could last 16 hours! My other invention was the Q-Tip Earcleaner--a robot that would clean your ears for you; I obviously felt it was too laborious. I had pasted my fortune cookie fortunes, cartoons I thought were hilarious, and cutouts of guys from my teen magazines. Evidently, I was also into mentioning my favorite Sniglets like: superflograph=that useless photo taken just to finish a roll of film in order to get it to the developers.
Apparently my teacher had a minimum number of entries we had to do each quarter, but I wrote so much that I received an A+ each time. I'd turn to my journal during the times my class was sent to the cafeteria because the teacher called in sick and there was no substitute. I'd write each time I finished my work early in another class. I'd write on weekends. I'd write after I saw a new hottie in school or in the neighborhood "with his shirt off."
And who knew? I mentioned spending time at the library and complained about my weight! Not much's changed. LMAO.
I cannot stop cracking up at some of the thoughts I conveyed on paper--and for my teacher to read? Yikes! It was as though I had a real friend named Journal rather than realizing that my English teacher would be reading my most private thoughts, emphasized with my cussing here and there.
I wrote constantly about my infatuations with Richard Grieco, New Kids on the Block, and the rock band, Poison. And did you know? I could carry a crush from seventh to tenth grade. I continually professed my love for "John" then bad-mouthed him a few pages thereafter. Plus you could easily tell I was going through puberty because of my nonstop complaints about acne and how the $80 Retin A wasn't helping. I was reminded of my dream to become an astronaut for NASA or fly planes for the Air National Guard. Several entries proved that I adored my little brother and sister with their little drawings as part of my journal. In high school, I had already decided that my first kid would be named Blue, and if my husband didn't agree, "I'd make him." I closed many of my write-ups by declaring that I was just so absolutely tired. In an entry I wrote in 1989, I stated that my hobbies were "reading, watching new movies, listening to music, and doing homework." Doing homework? Ai-ya-yai.
There were two entries in which I had to invent something. The first was an eye spray--just hold the spray can 10 inches from your eyes and spray! It would change your eye color and could last 16 hours! My other invention was the Q-Tip Earcleaner--a robot that would clean your ears for you; I obviously felt it was too laborious. I had pasted my fortune cookie fortunes, cartoons I thought were hilarious, and cutouts of guys from my teen magazines. Evidently, I was also into mentioning my favorite Sniglets like: superflograph=that useless photo taken just to finish a roll of film in order to get it to the developers.
Apparently my teacher had a minimum number of entries we had to do each quarter, but I wrote so much that I received an A+ each time. I'd turn to my journal during the times my class was sent to the cafeteria because the teacher called in sick and there was no substitute. I'd write each time I finished my work early in another class. I'd write on weekends. I'd write after I saw a new hottie in school or in the neighborhood "with his shirt off."
And who knew? I mentioned spending time at the library and complained about my weight! Not much's changed. LMAO.
10.09.2008
More zumba, more zumba
In the past eleven days I've been to zumba seven times. I am addicted. Mind you, zumba is in addition to my usual 105-minute cardio machine workout. Trust me, I'm amazed I haven't keeled over. It's true you have more energy when you exercise.
During zumba, I notice that I'm still a little stiff, and sometimes I wonder if the instructor is addressing me and only me when she kindly yells out the steps to the class. I'm sure I'm overanalyzing it.
Most of the people in the class wear a bellydance hip scarf like the one below. It creates a very nice jingle to the music, and it seems to make the person dance even harder. So I'm thinking of buying one to make the entire workout even more worth it. (It's worn over the pants/shorts at my classes.) But you know I'll be swingin' it at home when I'm dusting/vacuuming/cooking. :)
During zumba, I notice that I'm still a little stiff, and sometimes I wonder if the instructor is addressing me and only me when she kindly yells out the steps to the class. I'm sure I'm overanalyzing it.
Most of the people in the class wear a bellydance hip scarf like the one below. It creates a very nice jingle to the music, and it seems to make the person dance even harder. So I'm thinking of buying one to make the entire workout even more worth it. (It's worn over the pants/shorts at my classes.) But you know I'll be swingin' it at home when I'm dusting/vacuuming/cooking. :)
10.05.2008
Crap! 999 pieces!
Do you see it? (Click to enlarge.)
%$#@!
Update 10/6/08: Found it--under my recliner.
10.04.2008
More gym
So I've been to zumba three times this week, and I love it. The hour goes by quickly, and the idea of exercise escapes me because it feels like I'm just having a good time dancing to Latin music, which essentially, I am. There's one step I can't do for shit, so I basically hop in place and move my arms until it's done. I have no more reservations about how I may look to others.
Booty-shaking is what I'm practicing in front of the mirror at home. And when I'm washing dishes or shampooing my hair, I'm swaying my hips to get more practice in. Every calorie counts, right?
I have to tell you about today's instructor. People, she had the most toned and fit body I have EVER seen in real life. Seriously. My jaw probably dropped to the floor when she took off her jacket. Her abs were unreal, her arms sculpted like a goddess's, and she appeared to have absolutely no fat on her body. She had a trimmed, healthy, sexy body, not one of those anorexic, gross-looking, ai-girl-eat-something-bodies. I typically don't comment on girls' bodies, but dude, she was hot, healthy hot.
There are other classes at my gym that fit nicely into my schedule too. Anyone ever done Bodypump or Body Combat? Hoi. I'll let you know those go.
Booty-shaking is what I'm practicing in front of the mirror at home. And when I'm washing dishes or shampooing my hair, I'm swaying my hips to get more practice in. Every calorie counts, right?
I have to tell you about today's instructor. People, she had the most toned and fit body I have EVER seen in real life. Seriously. My jaw probably dropped to the floor when she took off her jacket. Her abs were unreal, her arms sculpted like a goddess's, and she appeared to have absolutely no fat on her body. She had a trimmed, healthy, sexy body, not one of those anorexic, gross-looking, ai-girl-eat-something-bodies. I typically don't comment on girls' bodies, but dude, she was hot, healthy hot.
There are other classes at my gym that fit nicely into my schedule too. Anyone ever done Bodypump or Body Combat? Hoi. I'll let you know those go.
10.01.2008
Eye-opening receipts
For the first time in my life, I kept a whole month's worth of receipts for purchases made with my debit card. My goal was to compare it to the monthly statement from my bank.
I was caught off guard because--Oh. My. God. I spend too much on groceries. I am too embarrassed to post the amount here. For the amount of money I spend on food just for myself, this little experiment has proven that I NEED to keep a better eye on price labels. I think part of the problem is I just go in to the grocery store and make it my life's purpose to leave in record time. I tend not to compare prices and just pull the stuff I want/need. I guess I fooled myself into thinking that prices don't vary. Well, sucka, they do!
In my own defense, I am really good about eating breakfast at home and bringing lunch to work every day. So maybe I'm saving money? Balancing out? Gross; who am I kidding?
How much do YOU think a single woman could survive on for food per month? Be brutal so I can learn my lesson.
I was caught off guard because--Oh. My. God. I spend too much on groceries. I am too embarrassed to post the amount here. For the amount of money I spend on food just for myself, this little experiment has proven that I NEED to keep a better eye on price labels. I think part of the problem is I just go in to the grocery store and make it my life's purpose to leave in record time. I tend not to compare prices and just pull the stuff I want/need. I guess I fooled myself into thinking that prices don't vary. Well, sucka, they do!
In my own defense, I am really good about eating breakfast at home and bringing lunch to work every day. So maybe I'm saving money? Balancing out? Gross; who am I kidding?
How much do YOU think a single woman could survive on for food per month? Be brutal so I can learn my lesson.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
