Wednesday, May 27, 2009

The Trainer

I'm not too proud to admit that the whole transition from sloth to straight-to-the-gym-after-work junkie would have not been so smooth if it wasn't for a certain trainer/eye candy. Even though in the last six weeks I haven't managed to utter more than 2 words to him (I know hard to believe from the girl that usually can't shut up), he has served a definite purpose. Having some man-candy around when you're getting sweaty never hurts! A constant reminder of some other sweaty "not appropriate for children under the age of ::insert your preference here::" activities only motivates me/you to work out harder..a little more umph now, a little less jiggling later ;)

Of course my sources now tell me that "the trainer" ::gasp::..
only just turned 20..which in my book means he might as well be 12.
It's like the signs always say - No Shirt, No Shoes, Not of Legal Drinking Age..NO SERVICE!

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Elle's Workout Plan Update

Today marks the start of Week 6 of my get-in-shape-or-die plan. Did I go to the gym today to celebrate?

Well No..
But being sick for the last 3 days has really curved my appetite and thus decreased my calorie intake to whatever there is in Ginger Ale and Progresso soup (don't forget to subtract 120% of those calories to account for the new and exciting ways my body has come up with to dispose of both those yummy treats..good times).

Besides this minor set-back, the working out is going pretty well. Although I have managed miraculously not to shed a single pound, my doctor assures me that I am improving my health - and most importantly my friends think I look skinnier. Let's face it..that's really what matters anyway.

p.s. I'd like to extend a heartfelt thank you to my body for quite literally attacking itself for.a.whole.year. resulting in the loss of my gall bladder..without your very generous sacrifice, I may have waited another decade to get in shape ::round of applause::

Saturday, May 2, 2009

2 a.m.

Knowing when to hold my tongue has never been my strong suit..unless its a secret.

These secrets fall into 2 categories.
1. Other people's secrets
2. My feelings

The first category is a plague I have been struck with as a result of being a good friend/listener and being able to offer some kick ass advice on a plethora of topics. These secrets are not mine to it makes it pretty easy to keep them to myself. Confiders beware: I am not responsible for what comes out if you happen to screw me over..lesson - don't screw over people that you tell your dirt to..not smart.

The second category is more complex.
No, I don't keep in all my emotions. I am a very lively person and often suffer from foot-in-mouth syndrome, which is a nice break from wearing my heart on my sleeve phrenia (see: the college years). However, in the interest of keeping friendships sometimes I feel the need..nay the responsibility, to keep my mouth shut.

It's not that I lie to people, I just sometimes don't share the whole truth..especially with the men in my life. Full disclosure with males have proven to be less than ideal over the last few years, and this is a plight that unfortunately guys in my life now have to deal with. I'm pretty sure they have it coming. After all these years of being walked on, poisoned, stabbed, pushed in front of semi trucks, crashed into by high-powered vehicles of mass transit (all metaphorical..); I know that I deserve to be a little bit of a bitch.

This hasn't stopped me from walking on eggshells for select few men that have proved to have staying power. But everyone has a breaking point. Mine usually come after one too many drinks, after an emotionally charged week (stay tuned for: Why Weight Loss Makes Me Angry). I don't like to be that chica that's always complaining about what your doing wrong, or how I feel (using feeling words cause me to baby barf). Unfortunately for you, if it takes me getting drunk to finally tell you whats on my mind..I won't apologize for that. At least I'm being honest. That's more than most get (or deserve). Embrace it. This is a perfect opportunity to get into a legitimate sanctioned no-holds-bar screaming match with me about why I shouldn't be allowed to communicate after consuming alcohol..

Someone very smart once said, No good decisions are made after 2 a.m.