that is if you don’t want to sleep for 20 hours straight. I had every intention of writing today, but the my throat was killing me last night and I could only breath through my mouth. So I figured, I’d take some NyQuil to have a good night sleep. After taking two cup fulls of the stuff, I noticed it said new formula on the bottle. It doesn’t have a nasal decongestant any longer. Then I remember the Tylenol nighttime. I took some of that. I think I barely made it to bed before passing out. I woke up around noon, and I never sleep that late, dragged myself out of bed to shower and just managed to get through some edits. Then I took my sorry behind back to bed and slept another six hours. Damn this stuff is potent. I get the feeling over-the-counter cold medicine has killed many an authors’ careers.
So this is what I was up to last week.
I had fun, and hung with my friends. I missed most of the drama that ensued. Even if it happened around me, I probably would have been oblivious because I’m always in my own little world, guess that’s why I’m a writer. So this is a video of fairy court seating. I was on the court. It was nice, but I felt like such a tool when I was escorted on stage. Generally I’m not a shy person, but I got stage fright. Maybe it was mean of me, but the guy who escorted me on stage wasn’t the one who was orginally going to. There was another guy who was supposed to do it, but I objected because he was too short. We would have looked like an interracial Sonny and Cher. I’m a tall woman for goodness sake, I need a tall guy. Oh well, the guy was really nice about it though. Yeah, I was PMSing pretty bad all week, but still had a great time and met up with old friends and made some new ones.
Worst customer service ever. Not to mention the cashier couldn’t count over a hundred. *shudders* So my computer dies on me and I need a new one. Not only was the sales rep not very knowledgeable, he was really rude. So we went to another location and saw the same computer for the same price. The guy at that store was so helpful I wanted to buy the computer right then and there, but they were out of stock so as much as it galled me. I had to go back to Worst Buy. So as I go to the cashier to pay and I pay in cash, and I swear it literally takes this guy five minutes to count it out, and it’s not like I paid him in ones. It was fifties and twenties, mostly fifties. How hard is that? And to top it off they wouldn’t help me take it to my car even though my friend pulled it up to the front. I’ve always had a problem at Best Buy. They suck so bad.
If you’re ever talking to me and something is hanging out of my nose, I don’t care how well you know me, please tell me. Don’t let me stand there like an idiot with a gigantic booger dangling and then when I go to the bathroom and look in the mirror I see it and am mortified that I could have been walking around with that. I would grant that courtesy to you, in a discreet way of course. *Sigh* It’s been a long long day.
Well, I still haven’t fallen of the wagon even though I had a terrible Easter weekend. (foodwise) I can’t resist my Dad’s cooking. It was like the last temptation of Christ. There I was faced with a row of food, beckoning me, saying, ‘eat me’ ‘eat me’. Southern cooking is no joke. *sigh* So I took my butt to the gym and stayed on the treadmill until I sweat in spots where I didn’t think it possible to sweat. I weighed myself today thinking I really screwed up. By some miracle I managed to lose three pounds. Go figure.
In the meantime, though my workouts are still hard, I’m able to get through without coughing out a lung. And the guy in my aerobics class, yeah, I still see his balls.
From the guys who gave you Thriller they’re now cranking “dat Soulja Boy”
Why does every reality show contest have to have a nasty judge, and nine times out of ten they’re British. It works with Simon Cowell because he’s the original, but it seems like every reality show has to follow that formula now, America’s Got Talent, Dancing with the Stars, America’s Next Top Model. The list just goes on. Is it me or is that formula of the nice judge, the judge no one understands and the hateful judge, getting boring? Maybe I just watch too much television.
While the Freedom Fighters struggle to shape the resistance into a fearsome military force, Sydney and Jack are still bumping heads. Jack knows Sydney’s the woman for him, but Sydney has her doubts. Still, their passion burns hotter than ever.
Jack and Sydney aren’t the only ones with flaring tempers. Holly and Chase too must overcome their differences before they can provide a united front to their team.
As the resistance gains strength, preparing to overthrow the Cyrellians, Earth’s future hangs in the balance.
Since January I’ve been trying to get in shape and go to the gym regularly and eat healthier. There are way too many health issues in my family and I want to nip it in the bud before I join the ranks of having medical issues as well. Anyway, here are some of my observations at the gym.
Why do people wait for the close up parking spot? Isn’t the point of going to the gym to get in shape. Why not walk the extra ten feet. Sheesh.
And to that one aerobics instructor who kept rolling her eyes because some of us couldn’t keep up with your complicated moves, F you. Not everyone will get the moves the first time. It takes practice but with your attitude you don’t have to worry about me messing up in your class again because I’m not coming back. It’s no wonder why your class is so small, because you’re a bitch.
And to the aerobics instructor who teaches cardio kickboxing thanks for your patience and encouragement. I will be back to your class. Although I was quite surprised you were playing DMX during class and not the clean version. I wouldn’t have expected that of you. *g* It was funny hearing the f word every time I did a squat.
I hate those super intense people in class who seem to get off from adding power to every kick and grunting like they’re having sex. It makes me want to punch you in the face, especially when I can barely breath and it feels like my lungs are about to explode. I hate you all.
And to the guy who was kicking really high in the red shorts, dude, invest in a jock strap. I saw your balls.
I do not want a personal trainer so stop trying to ambush me when I walk out of aerobics class. Lady, don’t you see me sweating already. Do you want to kill me?
My breasts are too big for jumping jacks. (ouch)
To the little guy in the biker shorts with the leathery skin, no, I don’t want you so stop flexing in front of me, you’re what? 5 foot nothing? What the hell do you think you could do with me?
To that tall drink of water who looked like a young Denzel, Michael Jordan hybrid, I’m married, but if anything happens to the hubby, call me. ( Just kidding, I love my husband. Hey I’m married, not dead)
I can’t take spin class anymore because those bikes hurt my special area.
I am really out of shape.
Happy Valentine’s Day to everyone, and remember spread a little love every day instead of one day out of the year.