As I was telling you all last week, Cosie has been diagnosed with feline hyperthyroidism.

Her new medicine regimen has proven to be fairly easy to adapt to. For the first week, she got her pill once a day, in the evening. Then, as per doctor’s orders, on Friday I increased her dosage to twice a day. Now Cosie is taking her pill at 7:30am and 7:30pm. Or as close to those times as possible.

Her overall health seems better, as I mentioned before. She is eating normally now and has energy to play and saunter around my apartment with her prior swagger. She also isn’t throwing up as much. I’m pretty jazzed about that fact, as for several years it’s been a problem. I always assumed it was your typical senior digestion problems, but the drastic cut back in occurrences lead me to believe that in recent times it may’ve been her thyroid problem. So all of that seems good.

Her condition does pose some challenges, however. For instance, in the past, when I’ve gone out of town for a couple of days, I’ve just had my sister or a friend stop by once to check in. Now I have to coordinate someone to give Cosie her medicine. Luckily, my sister has been missing her cat, Daniel, so she volunteered to actually stay at my place for two nights last week while I went to Reno for my birthday.

I was a little nervous leaving Cosie, as she has been sick so recently. Not to mention that the day before I left she developed the sniffles (which after 8 days, she still has…). My co-worker and I had already made our reservations though, so the trip needed to go on. Plus, my 29th birthday was coming up and gambling my guts out is my favorite way to celebrate.

(I guess I’m not supposed to admit that, am I? Oops…)

 I shouldn’t have worried about ‘ole Cosie though. She apparently is well enough to handle herself.

Remember this problem? Yeah. I haven’t forgotten about it either. Despite my meticulous lock up of all dry goods and my installation of sonic mouse “shoo-ing” devices, I still had the sneaking suspicion that the little guy was still around. I hadn’t seen any more mouse droppings, nor had I ever laid eyes on the creature itself, but on Sunday night, Cosie was stalking some unknown thing in the apartment, and she looked serious.

On Thursday morning afternoon, just before I got on the road to head back to the bay area, I received the following text from my sister:

“All is well with the kids again. Cosie pilled beautifully, and ate. Unfortunately, I have to break the news to you that you have a mouse, which I have seen. So has Cosie and Daniel…Daniel is curious….Cosie wants the mouse’s arse. She has been on patrol all night, running and chasing. So, be sure to check around just in case she catches it. Sorry. I saw the bugger in your closet area, you may want to go through there…on the up side, I think that there is just one…”

 Do you know what I said in response? It really wasn’t very eloquent, but expressed my feelings very accurately:


It totally killed the good mood I had been wrapped up in. All I could think about was how much I really didn’t want to see the mouse…dead or alive.

When I got back to my apartment, I didn’t even want to go in there. I felt so grossed out at just the THOUGHT of that mouse running around and the idea of the cats catching it made it twelve thousand times worse. For 1.5 days upon my return, Cosie and Daniel ran around the apartment, meowing strangely (battle calls?) and pouncing on everything they saw. I, however, was choosing to ignore the situation completely. I didn’t go through my closet and I just kept trying to pretend that none of this was happening.

My plan was working splendidly.

Until Saturday morning.

On Saturday morning I got up to feed the kitties, scoop out the litter box and then I was off to take a shower. I had work during the morning shift, so I needed to get a move on. Just after getting out of the shower, I passed through my closet (I have a walk-through closet…you walk through it to get from the bathroom to the living area of the studio) and then I saw it:

Cosie and Daniel were sitting in the middle of the living area floor…with a dead mouse between them.


Let’s be honest, I could say that I reacted all cool about seeing a dead mouse while standing naked in my apartment, but that would be untruthful. I screamed and retreated to the bathroom. I realized I needed to handle this pronto, but I had never imagined it would happen while I was unclothed. I decided I would throw on some clothes so I could pick the mouse up in a bag and run it straight down to the garbage cans. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to work. Cosie was now batting the thing across the hardwood floors…and then she picked it up in her mouth and tossed it up in the air.

Obviously I panicked and started to shriek, “AHHH! OMG! Cosie! Drop it! Drop it! Drop it!”

Some would say it was wrong to yell at her and rain on the proudest moment of her life. I, of course, realize that Cosie is hard of hearing and had no idea I was saying anything other than, “Nice kitty! Good job! Disembowel it!”

The scene looked a lot like Kitty Christmas:

Except, you know…with a real mouse.

I quickly ran into the kitchen, grabbed a plastic bag, picked up the mouse (before Cosie could take it off somewhere I couldn’t find it) and shoved it in my kitchen trash can. Then I dressed faster than I ever had before so I could take the garbage outside. So. Fricken’. Gross.

Cosie seemed kind of depressed after that. She tried in vain to play with a toy, but it just wasn’t the same. I had taken away the best toy she had ever had in her entire life.

Unlike Cosie, I was quite relieved to have the mouse removed. I figured the worst was over.

Then I remembered…it was only 7:20am. I was going to have to feed mouse breath over there her morning dose of felimazole. Well happy belated birthday to me.

I washed my hands a bazillion times afterward. As a matter of fact, I think I may go wash them again. Just to be sure.

I have been having both extreme fun and extreme stress this week. I would love to tell you all about what has been going on, but alas, I have decided that I am too busy watching Harry Potter and eating Scream Sorbet’s Hazelnut Chocolate to be able to write up a post.

Sorry, I’m not sorry!

So rather than not share anything with y’all, I’m just going to be a copycat and hop on the meme bandwagon, once again!

Hope you all are having a fabulous start to your weekend!!

Alexa, A to Z:

A. Age: 28…gah! I only have 15 months of my twenties left! Help me!! I’m old!!

B. Bed size: Full-sized futon. I bought a futon when I moved into my apartment 2 years ago because it is a studio. I figured that I could put it up into a couch during the day time.

Fact: I have only put it up three times since I bought it in March of 2009. I should have bought a bed.

C. Chore you dislike: I have to be honest. I hate almost ALL chores. I am a terrible homemaker. I don’t like cleaning. I only started to appreciate cooking in the last couple of years. I guess my least favorite chores are laundry and the dishes.

D. Dogs: Yes, please! I love dogs! Sadly, I have none. Too hard to have a dog in San Francisco when you’re a renter…hardly any landlords allow them. I do have a cat, Cosette (Known as Cosie) and I’m temporarily sheltering my sister’s cat, Daniel Striped Tiger. For the record though, I’ve lived with two dogs in my life: I lived with Onyx, my sister’s dog, for 6 years when we shared an apartment. We also had a dog when I lived with my Mom. My mom found her abandoned in a parking lot. We didn’t want to get attached, so we didn’t name her. Instead, we just called her ‘Puppy’. We had Puppy for over a year before we managed to find her a permanent home. Oops. So much for not getting attached!

E. Essential start to your day: Coffee and a shower. I am nothing without coffee, and I never leave my house without showering.

F. Favorite color: Oh. That’s tough. When I was 5, my favorite color was yellow. When I was 9, it was purple. When I was 13, it was green.  These days, I don’t much do with favorite colors. I have made an effort to adjust to pink though. As a kid, I refused to have anything to do with pink, as it annoyed me that as a girl, I was expected to like the color. I’ve since decided that pink can be pretty awesome.

G. Gold or silver: Silver. Gold just ain’t my thing.

H. Height: 5’5.5″ — My driver’s license says 5’6″, but really, I’m a 1/2 inch shorter.

I. Instruments you play(ed): I played clarinet regularly for 8 years. I also played tenor saxophone for a few years and bass clarinet for one or two semesters. I also dabbled in flute, viola and piano.

J. Job title: Well, technically my job title is ‘Operations Manager’. Sounds unbelievably exciting, doesn’t it? No? Yeah, it isn’t. I hope someday to be able to say my job title is ‘Writer’….or ‘Independently Wealthy World Traveler’…you know, whichever….

K. Kids: Goats are awesome. Always my favorites at the petting zoo….

L. Live: San Francisco, CA, USA.

M. Mom’s name: Bobbie.

N. Nicknames: Lex (hate this), Alley, Lou (only my sister calls me that), Nevada (inside joke from an epic gambling adventure in 2005), Triple A (initials)…..mostly people just call me by my name though.

O. Overnight hospital stays: Never, and I hope to always be able to say this.

P. Pet peeves: People who don’t pull their own weight. People who ALWAYS have to be right, even when they’re not. People who sit directly next to me on the bus when EVERY other seat is free. People who talk loudly on their cell phone while on the bus. People who have stereos on their motorcycles and play really god awful music, forcing everyone else to be subjected to afore mentioned god awful music. People who don’t read signs and then ask really stupid questions. People who have to put their kids on a leash to keep track of them…hello, they’re human children, not dogs….if you can’t keep track of them, don’t have them!

Really, if you haven’t noticed the trend, I think I’m just peeved by people in general. *cough*

Q. Quote from a movie: Willy Wonka (Gene Wilder): If the good Lord had intended us to walk, he wouldn’t have invented roller skates.

R. Righty or lefty: Righty. Though I have been told by my sister that when I was a baby I favored my left hand, and since she decided that using your left hand was wrong, she trained me to use my right hand. I have no recollection of this. My sister says a lot of things…

S. Siblings: Laura, 40, half-sister. Laura is 12 years older than me, and despite our technical “half-sister” status, we never refer to each other as such. It’s always just “my sister…” with us.

T. Time you wake up: It varies. I work both day shifts and night shifts at my job. Between 6:30am and 7am on day shift days, then on night shift days, I usually just wake up naturally. Probably around 8 or 9am.

U. Underwear: Absolutely!

V. Vegetables you dont’ like: Beets. I keep trying and trying and trying, but I just don’t like them!

W. What makes you run late: Everything. I am physically and mentally incapable of being on time. Even when I’m up several hours early, I can’t manage to get out of the apartment on time.

X. X-rays you’ve had: Teeth…tons of times. Just got new ones because I’m going to have oral surgery for severely impacted wisdom teeth in March. So NOT looking forward to that. I also had my hand x-rayed a couple of years ago when I started having chronic pain and swelling in the first joint of my left index finger. Turns out I have psoriatic arthritis in my digits. Oh lucky, lucky me. Regular psoriasis just wasn’t enough for me…I had to go ALL out!

Y. Yummy food you make: Pancakes. I freaking love pancakes. And oatmeal. And baked onion rings. Not all at the same time, of coursse.

Z. Zoo animal favorites: PENGUINS!! Penguins RULE!

So there has been a thing called the Dialect vLog or Accent vLog going around the web.

I’ve seen a couple of examples of this on blogs that I read, such as Maria’s and Caitlin’s. Watching their videos was really interesting and made me really excited to do my own.

I have a sweet spot for the study of language. My favorite class that I took in college was “Intro to Linguistics”. After a couple of weeks in class I started to deeply regret having been a Creative Writing focus, as Linguistics seemed way more exciting. If I hadn’t already been in my final semester of study, it may’ve been enough to make me change majors.

So, the only problem with me doing this video log thing is that I hate being recorded. I’m kind of a lousy public speaker. An entire semester spent trying to break me of saying “um” every 5 seconds and I never managed it. I also ramble.

And in this video I look like I don’t have a chin.

Oh well.

Enough complaining.

(well, for the moment….I ramble about hating being recorded in the video…..yeah….I have problems…)

In case you’re interested in giving it a whirl, here is the list of words/questions for The Accent Vlog: Aunt, Route, Wash, Oil, Theater, Iron, Salmon, Caramel, Fire, Water, Sure, Data, Ruin, Crayon, Toilet, New Orleans, Pecan, Both, Again, Probably, Spitting image, Alabama, Lawyer, Coupon, Mayonnaise, Syrup, Pajamas, Caught

  • What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house?
  • What is the bug that when you touch it, it curls into a ball?
  • What is the bubbly carbonated drink called?
  • What do you call gym shoes?
  • What do you say to address a group of people?
  • What do you call the kind of spider that has an oval-shaped
  • body and extremely long legs?
  • What do you call your grandparents?
  • What do you call the wheeled contraption in which you carry
  • groceries at the supermarket?
  • What do you call it when rain falls while the sun is shining?
  • What is the thing you change the TV channel with?


Have you done the Dialect/Accent vLog? Leave me your link!

On December 19, 2010, I ran the Christmas Classic 5K in Golden Gate Park.

I signed up for this race several weeks in advance, so I was pretty bummed out by the fact that I had fallen prey to head cold #1 (I’m still recovering from the second cold as I type) days before the race. I felt even worse when I found out that it was going to rain and be nasty out during the race. I had never raced in bad weather before and I wasn’t entirely sure that running in rain and wind was going to be good for my cold. Lastly, I was sad that I might miss out on getting another race shirt.

Since I’m not a long distance runner and don’t have medals, race shirts are my only form of fitness bling. Boo-yah.

I debated bailing on the race in this post, but when race day came, I just decided to go for it. I might drop dead trying, but I was going to finish and get my damn t-shirt.

A couple of days before race day I hit up Sports Authority for some inclement weather gear. I didn’t really have a track jacket or hat, and I knew that I needed them for the race, especially given my health at the time. I picked up a super cute Nike jacket that was on sale and a Nike cap. I had wanted gear that wasn’t black, as everything I own is black, but in the end, it’s what I wound up with. The night before the race I was getting excited, so I decided to model my gear.

Hawt, right?

Yes. Okay. Moving on.

I’ve looked back on my camera, but I can’t find any pictures of breakfast. It was almost a month ago, but I think I had a cup of coffee. I also probably had some kind of nut butter and a banana on a slice of either Great Harvest Dakota or Brown bread. I guess this as I always have peanut butter and banana on toast before a race and secondly, I guess this because it’s the only food I really had in my house during the month of December. Oops.

I was running (ahahaha. punny. ok. not really.) a little late that morning and I managed to navigate the distance to the 5 Fulton stop on McAllister and Divisadero just in time to see the bus drive by. Very reminiscent of my Run Wild For A Child morning, no?

The only difference is that this time, I couldn’t hustle enough to make it. I had a full Clipper Card this time and everything. Le sigh.

Do-dee-do. Guess I’ll just have to wait then.

As I stood there in the bus shelter, the wrath of God poured down on San Francisco. Seriously. The wind was blowing so hard I thought the shelter and I were going to be obliterated. I was getting soaked because it was raining sideways, into the shelter. I was freezing and wondering what exactly I was doing out of my bed and out in the cold, harsh world.

After 9 minutes of getting thrashed by mother nature and a 10 minute MUNI ride, I arrived at Golden Gate park. I didn’t really know exactly where the start line was, so I just sort of followed the other people wearing running clothes who also wore expressions of “WTF am I doing here?!”

I figured they would know where to go.

After I got there, I picked up my bib and started my great restroom search. The brilliant folk from the park sort of forgot to unlock them so all of us were pacing around from bathroom to bathroom trying to find the magical open one. Eventually a park employee came and opened up. I got in there before he closed it to be serviced and stocked. Fine by me. No line. Woo.

After all of this rain, wind, and bathroom searching, I was starting to feel crappy, tired and blurry. Out of focus. Ick.

I went to huddle with the other people who would be running the 5K. There was also a mile race, so all of us 5Kers were waiting on the mile race to end. I saw my co-worker run by super fast. Impressive. All of us cheered on the runners. The rain had stopped somewhere during all of this and all of the happy vibes from the cheering started to brighten my spirits.

Woo! Go running! @yay!

Eventually it was time for the race to start. I didn’t have high expectations. I just set out to finish and do the best that I could, given the circumstances. The first mile was pretty tough, just because it was up an incline. I never run up hills, save maybe racing up one block from Oak to Page on Broderick after my Panhandle runs. I never actually train for hills. This wasn’t steep, just a steady climb. I really didn’t want to stop, so I just kept at it, which I think was probably a bad idea. I kind of burned through my energy really early.

During the other 2.1 miles I did a lot more walking than usual, as I was struggling with breathing…my sinuses were shot. Despite the difficulties, I was having fun. Race workers said encouraging things when we hit certain points. I watched little kids running with their parents and siblings, the elder family members trying to motivate the young ones to keep going and “finish strong”.

Finally, I saw the finish line ahead. I was sad to see that it was already past the 33 minute mark, but even more sad to see 34 minutes approaching. I ran as hard as I could, but I just couldn’t make it in under 34.

I posted this video on New Year’s Eve when I discovered it had been uploaded onto YouTube. I had anticipated it being very difficult to locate myself, so I just clicked on the third part and started scanning for myself. Luckily, it didn’t take very long. I am the first person to cross the finish line in this hunk of video footage. Score!

As I crossed the line a race worker exclaimed, “300! You’re here! Good!” You can hear it in the video.

Then I continued on down the chute and someone handed me a lollipop. Nice!

I made my way over to the post race festivities and picked up my t-shirt, water bottle and swag bag. Then I saw what kind of munchies they had going on. Cheese…..and DOUBLE RAINBOW ICE CREAM! w00t! You got to choose between chocolate and mint chocolate chip. I’m a chocolate girl, always.

Those are the legs of a fellow runner. He was chatting with a mother and son who had just finished racing. Then he talked to me for a bit. People at races are always so friendly and nice!

After a few minutes I sought out my co-worker to say hi. We chatted. Then I started on my walk home, happily eating ice cream and feeling accomplished and chipper. I passed a family and I remembered the little boy. He had passed me up during the race! I watched him as we walked…he was eating his lollipop and his ice cream at the same time. I smiled and told him that he was really fast. He didn’t have much time for me…eating two desserts for breakfast is hard work. His mom smiled and made a few comments though.

I really enjoyed this race. It was small, low-key and fun. I was able to not care too much about my time and just get out there and run, which is really what is important, right? I mean, who cares if you ran your 3.1 miles in 20 minutes or 40 minutes? It’s still 3.1 miles, and it’s still awesome. I wish I could get that fact through my thick skull more often.

The only thing I didn’t really like about the small race factor is the hand scoring. I had to wait two weeks to hear any word about my official time. Sure, I just said above that time wasn’t important, which is true, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know it just for my own records, memories and blog posts! The first step towards an official time was the above linked video. Then a day or two later they posted my time….



If you look at the video, I came in at around 34:02. My RunKeeper says it’s 34+ minutes also. Where did 31:22 come from? I e-mailed the timing people from the race and asked about it…they said it is correct.

Which is totally isn’t.

It’s not that time matters all that much….except that now my PR on Athlinks is a time that I didn’t earn. It bums me out a little bit that it isn’t accurate. I can’t believe my luck…two races in a row where there were timing issues. Maybe it’s Golden Gate Park. Perhaps it’s cursed….


At least I got my t-shirt…

…and a bunch of junk mail that needs to go through the shredder…


Have you ever had timing problems with a race?

Just so you know, my Mom and I found more reasons why breakfast is awesome on Wednesday at the Copenhagen Bakery in Burlingame.

Holy deliciousness, Batman.

I was trying to figure out what my last post of the year was going to be. I have lots of things I would like to write about, but not a lot of time to write about it. I’m working a NYE party at work tonight and I need to get out of here pretty soon.

I do want to leave 2010 with something aside from amazing breakfasts, however.

I woke up this morning and I felt like rolling around in bed and doing nothing until it was time for work. I decided to check and see if my official time had been posted for the Christmas Classic 5K yet. It hasn’t been. But I did see this on the website. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find myself, but I wound up to be pretty easy to find.

It isn’t about running the fastest or always PRing. It’s about achieving things you never thought you would.

So I told my house guest that I would be back in 30 minutes, laced up my brooks and went out for my final run of 2010. It wasn’t fast, or long…but it was mine.

Happy New Year, everyone.

In my last post, I spoke of something that had changed since I was a child — I feel a little guilty about taking Christmas presents.

Over the last couple of days, I’ve been thinking about that and I realized that something else has changed also.

I can no longer eat holiday food for days on end without a noticable food/sugar/over indulgence hangover.

As a kid and as an overweight adult, I was capable of eating and eating and eating. Sweets, rich food and all of the things that only come around during the holidays stood no chance around me. Despite the obscene amount of sweets that were presented to me as gifts or as items just left around the house or office, I would manage to eat through them all by New Year’s Day.

No joke.

That’s a lot of sugar consumption for 7 days….

Those days, are no more.

I have been feeling like I’ve been dying of a sugar overdose for days. I admit, despite being pretty “holiday’d out”, I still have been having a few cookies or pieces of candy a day. I was feeling pretty lousy about my lack of self-control, until I realized how far I’ve come.

A couple of weeks ago, I made this post, in which I showed half of the batch of Peppermint Mocha Fudge that I bid on during Tina’s bake sale fundraiser. I said that I had plans on freezing my half for later, as there were too many treats hanging about.

If this were 2006, I wouldn’t have frozen that fudge. I might’ve told you I was going to, out of embarrassment at the thought of you all thinking I was a fatty for eating it, but more than likely, I would’ve sat in my room eating it until I was sick.

But it isn’t 2006.

It’s 2010, and my half of the batch of fudge is safely in the freezer. I froze it with a few squares per Ziploc baggie, so that when I am ready to enjoy it again, I can just take out a small portion to enjoy. I did leave a few pieces on the counter to enjoy now. I still haven’t finished them all.

The day before that post I had made another post about all of the sweets that I was surrounded with.

In 2006, all of those TJ’s candy packages would’ve been long emptied and discarded. The Melty Kisses and most of those kit kats would’ve been gone too. The kitkats and Melty Kisses probably wouldn’t have made it to that photo shoot even.

But it isn’t 2006.

In 2010, I did eat a few more pieces of TJ’s candy, but all three of those partially eaten bags of candy are still in my desk drawer at work. There’s been so much food around, I haven’t been the least bit tempted to go back to them since that post. The Melty Kisses that I claimed wouldn’t make it to Christmas are still here. I didn’t eat another one after taking those pictures. I think I may’ve eaten ONE kitkat, but I think it was from the previous batch Maya had brought back in June.

That’s right. In 2006, there wouldn’t have been any kitkats from June to eat in December.

When I ran the Christmas Classic 5K on the 19th (recap is coming…waiting for my official time….it’s still not posted!! Grr!), they gave us Double Rainbow ice cream after the race and there were 4 See’s Truffles in our goodie bags.

If it were 2006, I would’ve eaten the ice cream AND all four truffles on the walk back home from the 5K.

Who am I kidding?  I wouldn’t have been RUNNING a 5K in 2006. Period!

9 days later and I still haven’t eaten the candy.

In addition, my Mom gave me a box of See’s in my Christmas stocking, as she always does. That would’ve easily been half gone by this point if it were 2006.

My See’s box is still in its plastic wrapping. The Swiss Miss and Kashi Cookies are unopened too.

So what does that all mean?

I’ve spent an amazing amount of time this year beating myself up because I put on 15+ pounds. Because there were some moments where I overindulged. A few times where I even ate an entire box of cookies or an entire pint of ice cream in one day. By myself. Are any of those things good? Of course not! But it’s life. Sometimes we do those things that are not good for us.

And after we’ve done them, it’s time to move on and look at the bigger picture.

I have come a long way, and while there still are bumps in the road, I feel good about all of the changes that have stuck.

Another fact:

In 2006, I would’ve been too ashamed to write this post. To tell you all about how I used to binge behind closed doors on chocolate and snacks.

Not in 2010. I’m not willing to waste one ounce of shame this holiday season on what has already been done. I suggest you not waste any either.

What changes have you made that have stuck?

I am happy to report to all of you that I managed to fall asleep without the lamp and TV on last night. I actually got up, brushed my teeth, turned everything off except for the radio.

(I listen to Coast to Coast AM when I fall asleep. What? There’s a city located 9 miles beneath the surface of Chicago? Aliens are running my local supermarket? Tell me about numerology and what it means for me. I love Coast to Coast…it lends to interesting dreams!)

I then slept for 9 entire hours!

As a matter of fact, the only reason I woke up at all was because my cat was poking me in the eye repeatedly with her paw. She’s a very demanding bed buddy.

“Get up off your lazy butt and feed me!”

While I was pretty excited about the amount of sleep, once I “got up off of my lazy butt” to feed Cosie, I realized that I felt like crap. My uterus (sorry guys) is killing me. My head is killing me (often related to that first thing). My thighs are killing me. My first joints on my left hand (I have psoriatic arthritis) are killing me. Everything is killing me this morning.

So I took some Advil gel caps (supposed to take it for the arthritis), made some coffee and a PB&CAB (Peanut Butter & Cranberry Apple Butter) sandwich and returned to bed to think about what I am going to do today.

Man. I really love this cranberry apple butter. I’ve had it smeared on crackers, on oatmeal, on bread….so tasty.

Pretty much the plan for the day is to let the Advil kick in and then go for a short run. Then I’m going to do laundry, including my sheets and comforter, as I just spilt half of my second mug of coffee all over them. After that, I may actually tackle cleaning my apartment up slightly.

Maybe if there’s time after that, I’ll cook something.

I know it SOUNDS like there would be time, since I have the entire day off, but, you know, it isn’t taking into account the time I will spend watching Glee, Netflix and possibly playing Beatles Rock Band.

Before I do all of that, I wanted to talk to you about something.

Yesterday I went to Tuesday Cardio Kick class, which I’m trying to reintroduce into my routine. I like it because I burn tons of calories and leave completely soaked in sweat, so I feel like I really accomplished something. I tend to “feel the burn” for a couple of days in my thighs. It’s also fun and you get to listen to weird remixes of songs. For instance, a remix of  “Bad Day” was playing yesterday, which made me think of this video for half of the class:

Oh what it took not to giggle.

There is one thing I do not like about group exercise classes though. Booty shorts. Yes, you read that correctly, booty shorts.

Cover your eyes, children:

Source via a google image search for “workout booty shorts”

Now one of the reasons I chose to go to the YMCA in the first place was the lack of cruising and focusing on appearances at the facility. When you go to a 24 Hour Fitness in this city, it’s a total meat market. When I first started to lose weight, I was at 232 pounds and there was no way I was going anywhere near a 24 Hour Fitness. So, I started at Curves. I felt safe there, as it caters to women of all shapes and sizes. I stayed there for about 3 months and lost my first 40lbs there. Thing is, Curves is pretty boring. It’s exceptionally repetitive. I was discouraged by other members from wearing my iPod. It just wasn’t the right fit for me, so I went in search of a facility that was. The YMCA just seemed like a logical place for me to go. They had a full gym and they also had people of every shape and size. People don’t cruise there and it’s a super friendly, safe environment.

For the most part, you don’t see any of that “get dressed up to workout” mentality going on.

Except for this one girl in my cardio kick class.

It’s not exactly that she dresses up, per se.

It’s more like she’s barely wearing anything at all.

She wears these shorts.

They’re black and about the length of a belt.

Now, I’m not a prude. Normally, I wouldn’t care what anyone else was wearing, but these shorts just bug me. She usually comes in late. I usually wind up standing behind her and then during every lunge or move where we have to get low to the ground, I have her ass hanging out in my face. I mean, she’s not overweight. The shorts fit her. She doesn’t look bad in them, I guess….but I just don’t want to have to look at someone’s butt off and on for 45 minutes, and in a group exercise class where people bend over in front of you over and over again, that’s what happens. It just grosses me out.

Maybe I’m overreacting, but I just would prefer to have the behind in front of me fully covered.


Okay. Time to get up and go for a little bit of a run. Glee and Rock Band Cleaning my apartment and doing laundry await!

Booty shorts at the gym…yay or nay?