Boiled pork
"HI! My eye-patch is like the modern day man - no strings attached!"
Haaaa oh dear, my jokes get progressively worse by day. I apologise. I actually opened up this sacred bloggy-window last night to pour forth some musings, but I was then side-tracked by something exponentially cooler, and by that I mean a library book about Adobe Flash. And then I feel asleep. I would appreciate it if you didn't make fun of my leisure reading choices, thank you.
GUUUYS, I've been tender all weekend like some well-boiled pork. Regretfully, I don't think I'm edible. No, but really, muscular tenderness is such a welcome addition to the vessel that is me. For the past three weeks, I've upped my bodypump classes from once (possibly twice) a week to a solid thrice. That, and I've also been increasing my weights load by about a third. I feel stronger, but damnit, I wan't results in the form of very-intimidating-guns nownownow!
Oh, speaking of gym-related things, yesterday I totally got hit on by a man a little older than in my prefered demographic. I am still deliberating about whether he was just being polite. "Do you train here often?" he said. "Yes," I replied with the casual air of a dustpan. "Oh," he continued, "I just haven't seen you around". "Mm, probably because I usually come in the mornings," I replied. At which he turned to his friend and exclaimed, "Pete, I told you we should go in the mornings. Look at the girls we miss out on."
It's instances like this where I wish my wit wasn't as ridiculous as chilli-flavoured toothpaste. Instead of saying something remotely amusing like, "Nah, it's just cranky soccermums then, the schoolgirls get here in the afternoon!" I instead said...something. Yeah, evidently so amusing, I can't even recall what I said. I wish I had wit! I wish I had finesse! I wish I didn't get such a kick out of eating Nutella straight from the jar!
Ooh, and I received one of my final assessments back in the mail. This should have been a 3,500 word essay, as I had intended for the greater part of the semester. With one week to go, I decided, "So what if I've already done the research and typed up the relevant notes, I want to make a project instead!" (We had the option to do a creative interpretation, and despite wanting creativity over conventionality, I thought I wouldn't have time and I didn't need the extra stress). Well, desire prevailed at the last minute, mind you - with two other major final assessments also due that week, and I persisted in making a video. I GOT A FREAKING HIGH DISTINCTION. Um... I think the extra stress was worth it. The moral of the story is that you should follow every desire except for the desire to swallow daggers or the desire to pursue Charles Manson because necrophilia isn't a very healthy pastime.
And today I visited Tasmanian cliffs the only way cheaters know how - photoshop, baby. Scenery is two images from Dad's archives.
(Click to view larger on flickr.)
Night, darlings
x
Haaaa oh dear, my jokes get progressively worse by day. I apologise. I actually opened up this sacred bloggy-window last night to pour forth some musings, but I was then side-tracked by something exponentially cooler, and by that I mean a library book about Adobe Flash. And then I feel asleep. I would appreciate it if you didn't make fun of my leisure reading choices, thank you.
GUUUYS, I've been tender all weekend like some well-boiled pork. Regretfully, I don't think I'm edible. No, but really, muscular tenderness is such a welcome addition to the vessel that is me. For the past three weeks, I've upped my bodypump classes from once (possibly twice) a week to a solid thrice. That, and I've also been increasing my weights load by about a third. I feel stronger, but damnit, I wan't results in the form of very-intimidating-guns nownownow!
Oh, speaking of gym-related things, yesterday I totally got hit on by a man a little older than in my prefered demographic. I am still deliberating about whether he was just being polite. "Do you train here often?" he said. "Yes," I replied with the casual air of a dustpan. "Oh," he continued, "I just haven't seen you around". "Mm, probably because I usually come in the mornings," I replied. At which he turned to his friend and exclaimed, "Pete, I told you we should go in the mornings. Look at the girls we miss out on."
It's instances like this where I wish my wit wasn't as ridiculous as chilli-flavoured toothpaste. Instead of saying something remotely amusing like, "Nah, it's just cranky soccermums then, the schoolgirls get here in the afternoon!" I instead said...something. Yeah, evidently so amusing, I can't even recall what I said. I wish I had wit! I wish I had finesse! I wish I didn't get such a kick out of eating Nutella straight from the jar!
Ooh, and I received one of my final assessments back in the mail. This should have been a 3,500 word essay, as I had intended for the greater part of the semester. With one week to go, I decided, "So what if I've already done the research and typed up the relevant notes, I want to make a project instead!" (We had the option to do a creative interpretation, and despite wanting creativity over conventionality, I thought I wouldn't have time and I didn't need the extra stress). Well, desire prevailed at the last minute, mind you - with two other major final assessments also due that week, and I persisted in making a video. I GOT A FREAKING HIGH DISTINCTION. Um... I think the extra stress was worth it. The moral of the story is that you should follow every desire except for the desire to swallow daggers or the desire to pursue Charles Manson because necrophilia isn't a very healthy pastime.
And today I visited Tasmanian cliffs the only way cheaters know how - photoshop, baby. Scenery is two images from Dad's archives.
(Click to view larger on flickr.)
Night, darlings
x
Posted in: babyporridge, bodypump, flickr, gym, nikki malvar, photoblog, picturepost on Wednesday, July 1, 2009 at at 4:51 PM 2 comments
