Here's how this went:
Me: I lost three pounds this week.
KRAM: Did you see the Grammys the other night?
KRAM: What did you think of it?"
ME: Uh...I love Adele.
KRAM: Yeah, she's good. I was amazed to see she's just 23. She looks thirty five.
ME: Well, sometimes a little fluffy will add some years.
As Homer Simpson would say: D'OH!
I fell into his trap. Sneaky, Sneaky KRAM. And this is where I knew he was preaching to me.
KRAM: So, how old do you want to look?
ME: (wondering just how old I look...) Well, I liked 32. 32 was a good age for me. (It was also twelve years ago.)
KRAM: Well, I'm turning 30 this year and I want to stay looking 24, 25.
It's at this point I realize that I can, and will crush KRAM. It will take time. I can, because I'm a girl, lotion, cover, pat, color, blow dry, and self tan a few years away. Plus...if I do get into shape, I've got that. I can only go up from where i am.
KRAM, on the other hand, is pretty much at the peak of his physical game. His baby is a baby...and the bald thing he's got going on works for him. But the years are going to pile up. And that baby is going to get older and demand more of his time, and suddenly he'll, one day, he'll go through the drive through just like everyone else and he'll find himself counting a quicker than normal stroll to the restroom as a jog.
In this battle of wills...time is on my side. (Love you KRAM...LOL!)
So I'll continue to work out, eat less crap, find a good foundation make up, remove unwanted hair and color unwanted colored hair...and I will look better. And then, when he least expects it, I (with significant help from Father Time) will (try to) CRUSH HIM!
|Yeah, team green. Green like jealous which is what you'll be, of me...if anyone tells you.|
And if, you care. And if I actually succeed.
|Lest you ladies think I'm mean to |
KRAM...picture a white Dolvet.
Yeah, I've got some work to do before
can crush him! LOL!
Now, Conda's got a lot going to for her. 1) She's on the ranch. I have a sit down, chained to the desk job. 2) She's got Dolvett. I've got a few stolen moments here and there with KRAM or Dee, or whomever else will take pity on me at Gold's. 3) She's on the ranch where the food it top notch and healthy. I work just off 124th street where there's every sort of fast, greasy, oh so wonderful food places beckoning to me with their bright lights and their dollar menus.
But I have two things Conda does not have.
1) I'm in a writing mode and when I'm writing, when I'm really writing, I'm not eating. I drink coffee, tea, and wine, but I have no time for food. I'm typing too fast and I hate sticky keys.
2) I have rage. I have rage that a very unpleasant woman like that gets the opportunity to be on the ranch when there are millions of very nice, lovely ladies who could do with the chance and simply cannot take time out of their lives (I know KRAM, like most trainers, finds this impossible to believe, but there is such a thing as not enough hours in the day.)
So I'm starting today. I lost 3 pounds this week. I'm going to be realistic here, and say, if I can lose half the weight each week that she loses, then I will officially CRUSH HER.
And if I don't: What, you think I'm afraid of making a fool of myself?