tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31722222012-01-25T07:22:48.422-08:00(Don't Dream It's Over)Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021848326757022474noreply@blogger.comBlogger131100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172222.post-48258579205009114052012-01-24T09:29:00.000-08:002012-01-24T09:29:31.375-08:00

Today, I wrote to a local GLBTQ group and expressed my interest in volunteering.This isn't something that I'd normally mention to the people closest to me, never mind put on a blog for anybody to see. I've long felt that doing the right thing loses its value if a person is bragging about it, which is what I feel many people do when they constantly mention the charities to which they donate money

Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021848326757022474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172222.post-33983445003940637832012-01-22T10:09:00.000-08:002012-01-22T10:09:43.481-08:00

As far as the War of Body Types, I don't fit with either camp. The stereotypical skinny girls think I'm too fat. The stereotypical fat girls think I'm not fat enough. Neither of these is enough to stop me from having the opinion that both sides need to just stick a cookie in their pie holes. This rant was sparked by the following image floating around my Facebook feed: Everyday, most women

Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021848326757022474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172222.post-55460547678211588962011-12-30T06:05:00.000-08:002011-12-30T06:05:42.176-08:00

Weight: 147.2 (-6.4) Body Fat: 39.1 (-5.4) Bust: 34.75 (+.25 OH, YEAH!) Waist: 32.25 (-.75) Abdomen: 35 (-1) Hips: 38.5 (-.5) Bicep: 10.5 (no change) Thigh: 24 (no change) Calf: 14 (-1) Total losses since last weigh in: -9.8 pounds -6.25 inches It's been 18 days since my last weigh in. The loss of pounds might not seem like a lot when spread over that time period, but that's all been lost

Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021848326757022474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172222.post-85584700481317487542011-12-12T07:39:00.000-08:002011-12-12T07:39:08.740-08:00

Weight: 153.6 pounds (-3.4 pounds) Body Fat: 44.5 (+6.4. What on Earth...?!) Bust: 34.5 (-1.5) Waist: 33 (-1) Abdomen: 36 (-2) Hips: 39 (no change) Bicep: 10.5 (-.25) Thigh: 24 (no change) Calf: 15(no change) I can't help but wonder what my measurements would read if I'd only done the exercises daily, or even every other day. Heck, I wonder what the results would be if I'd done it (the workout

Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021848326757022474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172222.post-73982302699238343372011-12-07T21:40:00.000-08:002011-12-09T10:04:07.646-08:00

Somewhere, the spirit of my mother is cackling at me. Elsewhere, one or both of my sisters is reading this and laughing in disbelief. That's okay because I know I'm writing the truth. Today, I hit that level of boredom where cleaning actually seemed like a good idea. This coincided with the fact that I was trying to find something that disappeared during one of my husband's "cleaning" sprees. (

Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021848326757022474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172222.post-76441396512985387602011-12-06T23:59:00.000-08:002011-12-07T04:37:38.785-08:00

I frequently complain about my husband. Some days, he makes it too easy. Other days are what I consider payback. Me: Hey. Him: Yeah? Me: I have a question. Him: Shoot. Me: How can I convince you... Him: (pause) ...yeeeeees? Me: What you see is real. Him: Oh, [expletive]. Me: Who am I to blame you - Him: Stop. Just stop - Me: I WAS LIVING FOR A DREAM...! Him: That's not even Air Supply! Of

Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021848326757022474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172222.post-61497472248212794812011-12-05T06:58:00.000-08:002011-12-05T06:58:44.038-08:00

Weight: 157 pounds Body Fat: 38.1 Bust: 36 Waist: 34 Abdomen: 38 Hips: 39 Bicep: 10.75 Thigh: 24 Calf: 15 First, I want to admit that I still can't read the word "ripped" without thinking "fart." Oh, if only getting back into shape was that easy! Second, the measurements are just a way to see how things wrap up at month's end. Ultimately, I have only two goals: to get my weight down to 130

Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021848326757022474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172222.post-22014123715458634072011-12-04T17:42:00.000-08:002011-12-04T17:42:33.292-08:00

I have committed to blogging every day for this month, but am feeling too tired really write something. I was going to write, "In lieu of an actual post, read about dog butts!" This only reminded me that I am not very happy with my cat. It's winter here - real winter, not that frigid 65 degrees Fahrenheit winter that I endured when I lived in Southern California. I've been wearing my winter

Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021848326757022474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172222.post-21696332166762193352011-12-03T19:41:00.000-08:002011-12-03T19:45:33.003-08:00

All parents screw up their kids. Seriously: think about your biggest quirk or your greatest aversion. If I ask you why you're like that, you'd probably say, "When I was little, my mom/dad..." Maybe your smirking because your answer starter with, "My brother used to..." Wipe that expression off your face. Who do you think brought your brother into this world? That's right. It's all your parents'

Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021848326757022474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172222.post-4872772610187536582011-12-02T09:05:00.000-08:002011-12-02T09:05:30.506-08:00

I have a 20 year old photo (I bet you thought I was going to say, "20 year old model, tied and duct taped to a chair in my basement." No. He's 25) of the room in my parent's house. At the center of it is my niece, who was three at the time, smiling widely at the camera. All around her is enough stuff to land me on the television show "Hoarders." OK, it's really not that bad. It really wasn't

Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021848326757022474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172222.post-60418754371060762992011-11-30T21:15:00.000-08:002011-11-30T21:15:34.145-08:00

15,000 Volts: If you're a man, it means an instant vasectomy.

Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021848326757022474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172222.post-10922799691824775202011-11-30T21:08:00.000-08:002011-11-30T21:08:51.599-08:00

The only thing my sister wanted was the pot. It was a tall one that had been in our family for so long that it looked like brushed silver. (It was really just banged up quite a bit.) The metal was also so thin that you could boil water relatively quickly - or set the ceiling above the stove on fire if you turned the element up too high (don't ask me how I know this). Overall, it was ugly but

Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021848326757022474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172222.post-89731383461108775982011-11-30T15:15:00.000-08:002011-11-30T15:16:23.654-08:00

About a month ago, I was playing my weekly round of Boom or No Boom. This basically consists of walking into church and seeing if I can enter without bursting into flames. So far, so good. On that particular Sunday, the sermon was about... I'm not sure exactly what it was about. I have a horrible tendency to zone out during mass, a habit I picked up during the many Sundays (Ash Wednesdays, Good

Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06021848326757022474noreply@blogger.com0