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workout plan

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Sarah entertains the cool guy and a Conda crushing update.

Good evening!

I believe I've mentioned that when I am driving, I am a rock star.  The only place I sing, really sing, is in the car.  (Those of you who have heard me in choir...well, yeah, that's my church singing.)  In  the car I am Pat Benatar, Mary (from Peter, Paul, and Mary) and Cyndi Lauper.  Sorry, Barry Manilow, in my car I am Music, and I write the songs.

Of course my favorite stuff to sing is Rick Springfield.  Call it kismet if you will, but his songs are generally in a good key for me.  In fact, I typically sing better with male singers than with women.  I just don't have a great high range.  (who am I kidding...I dont have  a range.)

This...except me, and in a car.
Today, However, I had my Night Ranger Greatest Hits in, and "Don't Tell me You Love me" was playing.  IF you know that song and your blood doesn't race just a tiny bit when you hear it, you may want to see a doctor, because you are probably dead.  It is the most awesome driving song.  Which is what I was doing.  Driving.  Until I came to a really, really, REALLY long stop light.  Then I was not driving.  Then I was Kelly Keagy, lead singer and DRUMMER for Night Ranger.  (And oh yeah, I was wearing my thumb braces which, from a distance, look like fingerless gloves.  Very 80's chic.

So I was drumming and singing and jamming there in my front seat when I caught a glimpse in my rear view mirror.  Cool dude, shades and all, sitting above me in a white SUV gas sucking world ending suburban assault vehicle was smoothing his $100 hair cut and laughing....at me.

Go ahead...laugh.  Your botoxed, siliconed girlfriend can't sing Night Ranger and you
KNOW you wish she could.
Now there was a time when a cool looking well coifed dude guy could, with a simple smirk, crush my hopes and dreams and make me feel stupid.  But you know what?  I'm over 40, I'm overweight and I have teens.  What little is left of my hopes and dreams can't be moved because it's my foundation.  So cool dude laughing at me can suck it.  I was having fun at a stop light.

Hey, Conda...WINNING?  NOT!
Now, for a Conda Crushing update.  Last week I weighed myself and in a fit of complete insanity I said I would lose half the weight Conda did on Biggest Loser.

Well, in two weighs I've lost 5 pounds.  In two weighs in, thanks to Conda's inability to be near anyone who doesn't lie down and worship her, Conda lost 8 pounds  (she gained two this week.)  So, if my math is right, I lost more than half her weight and she can also suck it because I am CRUSHING HER.

Finally, today is Fat Tuesday, the last day before Lent.  I'm Lutheran, so we don't really HAVE to give up anything for Lent, but I have over the years because it's been a good way to jumpstart good habits and to focus on what Lent, Holy Week, and Easter are all about.

So this year, since I've all but given up meat, and since I haven't eaten a Cheeto in months, I've decided to really make my self suffer.  For the next six weeks, I will give up eating at restaurants for lunch.  It's a really bad habit I got into a couple months ago when Hubby got a different job and I started driving myself to work.  The pleasure is two fold because while I don't eat meat on these outings, I typically do get fries.  Also, elsie does not follow me to the eateries. 

I tried it today.  Elsie has no respect for the concept of my lunch hour because, unlike her, I cannot shut my office door.  Because I don't have an office door.  So while I was trying to get some peace in the conference room where I'm forced to eat, unlike everyone else in my office, she kept shouting work questions, and coughing and gagging and talking to me.

This is going to be a long six weeks.

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