Although I took basically two weeks off from pole, what with grandma funeral stuff and going to Oregon, I am back in the studio and loving it. I really just feel better and stronger and happier with who I am and how my body feels.
In the getting in shape front, Matt and I were engaging in some early-morning groping action. After it was all said and done, he said, “Your butt and legs are smaller.” I replied, “You really think so? Because I can tell they’re more muscular, but am not sure about size.” His answer, and the reason why men amuse me so, “Definitely. I mean it’s still nice and bouncy like I like it, but it’s firmer.”
On the plus side, the pants I wore today confirmed his assertion.
Why do I torture myself by looking at all the homeless animals? It breaks my heart that I can’t adopt all the homeless kitties and other non-dog mammals.
I really wish there was a car that would blow cooler air on the top and hot air on my feet.
I have a semi-irrational hatred for people who put those peeing Calvin stickers on their cars. Bill Watterson never merchandised Calvin and Hobbes and those are totally not in the spirit of the comic. They just make me angry and want to bash in their douchey windows. My new neighbors have one.
This is what debate judges look like at night. (Alright, it was my idea, but still…)
A few of the fabulous people I know.
I took some other pretty spectacularly scandalous pictures, you know, so none of my friends will ever run for public office. They’re lucky I’m such a responsible photo-taker.
I was hanging out with a friend of mine this weekend that is preparing to get married in the Mormon temple in a few months. To do this worthily, he had to stop looking at pornography. However, there are a few other things he does that really just don’t jive with the LDS philosophy/teachings. I find it really interesting and totally bizarre that he’ll stop looking at porn, but he hasn’t stopped stealing things.
The city I work in is trying to put limits on the number of payday lenders in the city. Back in the day, as I was a college student trying to find my first summer job, I worked for a now defunct payday lender. I say this in all seriousness. They are horrible, evil vultures who prey on vulnerable people. You would be hard-pressed to find a job that I would not take before working at a payday loan company. I would hands down pick prostitution or porn work over being at a payday lender again.
I wonder whether people would argue that he or I or both of us have the twisted moral system.
I’m leaving for a few days. Not that you would really know because I have been sporadic at best with the posting lately. There are a few things I’d like to post about, but can’t. And a few other ideas rumbling around in my brain, which I’ll get back to later.
Because every time I look at pictures of people I went to high school with and they have gained weight too, I feel a sick sense of satisfaction. I know it’s unhealthy, but I’m glad I’m not the only one that didn’t stay stick thin.
My old coworker Brooke (the participant in many a conversation posted here) sent me a lovely bouquet of tulips this week. I took a picture of them, but keep forgetting to get it on my computer to actually post. So finally! Voila…
They did make for some entertaining conversation when people would stop at my desk. “Oh flowers! What’s the occasion?” “My grandma died last week.” “Oooooh. Sorry.”
My HR lady at work also filled out my timecard for me, which I totally forgot to do Friday afternoon. Chalk another one up for thoughtful people.
At 4 p.m. I was going to write about how we just got a memo saying that because of declining ad revenue there is a freeze on raises this year. Glad I got my whopping 13 cent raise in before the freeze. That $10 a month will really make a difference in my retirement.
At 4:30 I was hoping to be able to come home and be all “OMGWTFBBQ?!!?!?!?!? GOING TO HAITI TOMORROW!” But I’m not. Damn.
I heard my editors talking (because the worst place for eavesdropping is in a newsroom) about room for reporters on a plane to Haiti with people from our local Air Force base leaving for a very brief humanitarian mission tomorrow. My editor said something about it being so soon and the reporter would have to already have a passport and in this desperate half shout I squawk out, “I have my passport right here in my purse right now! I can go!”
Later he came back and told me I would be going, all I needed to do was wait for the details. He called me an hour after I left work saying evidently the Air Force people would not actually be flying us back to Utah, but dropping us off at some random base and the paper would have to pay for us to get home from there.
Remember the pay freeze? It means they kinda can’t afford plane tickets either. Damn and double damn…
