Back to Basics

No more beer binges, or flavored caffiene overdoses. For the first time in a long time, I'm going to play it straight. I'm going to work out for lunch, and eat a salad afterward. I'm going to be faithful to my dance classes, dangit. I'm going to get my ass in shape.

My motivation, you ask? This weekend I went to a birthday party and wore a pink girly t-shirt with a picture of Gomer in a cape and the words, "Super Fly" on it. The shirt is fab, and Gomer is forever cute, but there is nothing super fly about my gut hanging out for all to critique.

BTW, we just got Chloe the coolest baby go cart for her birthday. I can see her now. She's gonna totally ride down the block wearing her Social Distortion onesie and a mohawk when she rides in it. It's sitting in a big box in the living room as I write. Chloe doesn't know what the deal is with the big-ol-box, and she won't find out until next week. I'm so giddy.

In other news, I recently gave a friend some advice on how to manipulate her man and how to create situations where he would kiss up and think it was his own idea. I told her to be nice to him, then get her digs in once he got comfortable. I told her to get him all bothered to the point where he'd make promises to do things she could hold him to later. Blackmail. I told her to create leverage for herself. I told her to make him suffer. I told her to be unapologetic. She didn't take the advice, and it turns out she was all the wiser. I can hardly manipulate the make up I put on my face at times, how can I preach to anyone else about proper man control? I can't solve my own personal male dilemnas, or even get the dog to mind me, so just ignore that crap. I really do read too much Jane Magazine.