MILF HUNTRESS

Do you dig girls that lift?  I dig girls that lift.  This is why I love myself so.  Today was a nice workout.  After a little mishap with my mp-3, in which I had to head home and reload, it was all good.  I refuse at this point to workout without my own music.  I had the day off so all ended well.  This means I had 20 minutes on the elliptical about 8 AM.  I have been doing about 1/2 of it all the way up at level 20.  This is some insane bullshit….like treading quicksand.  But you can really feel it.  Then 20 minutes on the stairmill about an hour later.  Drenched in sweat.  I remember the day I used to do this for an hour at a time.  That was some insanity.  About ready to do it again.  Headed down to lift for my delts and biceps.  Probably just 10 sets apiece.  Lifting to Pantera.  Nicccccccce.   I have decided that the commonality among body builders is passion.  You simply have to have it to start lifting, to stick with lifting, and to enjoy lifting.  Passion, purpose…p,p,p,…pink.

If you are under the age 30 and you work out at my gym, I would love to see your penis.  Not in the flesh mind you, (cough, cough), but via the internet magic of a computer screen.  Being in the throes of my mid-life crisis, I have decided, ….why…….I need some crisis cock.  Since I absolutely love, honour, and adore my husband,…this is the only way it is ever going to happen.  Heads and torsos are preferred but optional.  It might be fun to play a game of pin the penis…..on the bodybuilder.  Be young, be hot, be absolutely naked.  Now get those cams to flashin’.  Thank you….Thank you very much. 

I held a baby today.  

This 18 year old mom and her 3 month old daughter came into the library to sign up for a card yesterday. 

The mom reminded me of me.  Her baby of my own firstborn.  To have children is to relive your innocence a second time around. 

Well that’s all gone now. 

I went into the bathroom and cried for 2 sweet, tortured, minutes.  Heaving, heaping sobs.  Then I pulled myself together to finish my day.

Would I have another baby if I had the chance?

Crazy enough…

yes I would.

Three things I feel the most natural (in the flow) doing…

***bodybuilding***

**drunken decadent dancing**

*mothering innocent babies*

At least 2 out of three involves baring breasts on occasion.

Workouts are fully back in order since I (AMEN) got a new MP-3 yesterday.  Actually bought one the night before.  Had some very pissy difficulties and had to take it back the next day on lunchbreak. 

One thing or another always seems to threaten my workouts.  Dental appointments, doctor appointments for my daughters.  I won’t let anything stand in my way. 

This is my strength. 

This is my secret in a nutshell.

Today, I voluntarily skipped my lunchbreak workout.  Came home and ate hickory smoked tuna instead. 

And while I was at it…

Buttoned back up and went to work.  Mmmmm, the things I have to look forward to. 

My hair is now dark, and my hair is short.  I figure if people are still looking at my hair, then they are just missing the point.

Worked out to Rammstein and Pantera last night.  The Doors and Muse today.  Going to download A-3 tonight.

I am up to 150 and holding fairly steady.  I think I have this thing pretty much figured out. 

"I’ve got a hot date with darlin’ tonight",  I told my daughters last Thursday.  "Huh??"  they said. "I’m letting my friend take me for a drink", I answered.  They looked at me kindof funny.  I like to tease my daughters sometimes.  "Such and such wants to be your new daddy," I might say.  They’re used to my nonsense.

Wasn’t sure how my husband was going to react to my drink with darlin’.  Hubbie is by nature very jealous, but he also knows what I am attracted to.  Can a male and female hold a friendship no strings, no hankie pankie attached?  I believe so.  …But only if the woman is unattracted.

I have many guy friends.  I love men.  Point blank.  I don’t have to have sex with them to enjoy their company.  And I do let any potential male friends know in advance.  "We can be friends, we can hang out,…but I am absolutely NOT going to have sex with you."  Once I’ve put all my cards down on the table, it is up to them whether or not they want to pursue the friendship.

So me and darlin’ had our drink.  We went shopping afterwards with internet coupons.  We have plans for next pay period to go and get spa pedicures together.

Hubbie called me the day after my hot date with darlin’ and said, "I’m going to be late from work tonight.  I am going out with my friend Robin….Head Bobbin’ Robin.  Just for drinks mind you…I’m not attracted."  (He is the king of the payback.)

"Go and have fun", I said.

If I don’t get an I-pod soon I am going to lose my mind.  The sounds of Jack FM plus Good Morning America combined in the mornings is making me ancy.  I need to lose myself in music.  Music that inspires; makes me want to work harder.  Every once in awhile Jack will push out something good….like "Fire Woman" by The Cult.  But too often I find myself working out to Lionel Richie.  Worse yet, that dang blasted Footloose.  I need to increase my weights, intensity.  I haven’t been sore since I don’t know when.  After all is said and done I am probably getting in just 2 hours per day.  Figuring shower and work prep time, maybe a total of 1:30 before work.  If I’m doing well, another 30 minutes at lunch.  Today’s lunch workout was just a 9 minute jog and 120 lunges.  Today of course was legs and arse day,… every 3 days whether I need it,… or just really, really, really, need it.  I am fully recovered from Sunday’s hangover.  Damn…I really put it away Saturday night.  My own 1/2 pint of tequila, about 8 marguerita’s on top of that, and then at least a good-6-7 Smirnoff’s at the club.   I do love drinking and dancing.  Dancing to me is the very epitome of freedom.  And drunk girls rule.  They mob me.  Forgot to mention that the very most popular/beautiful girl from the class of 1988 told me that I am gorgeous Saturday night.  It was one of those moments that both really meant something to me, and meant nothing at all.  I have found that when I am feeling good about myself…my own self approval/confidence is all I really need. Still it was nice to hear. 

 DRESS $20.

SCARF $40.

SHOES $19.99

HOT BODY PRICELESS 

The reunion was interesting though a bit surreal.  20 years is long enough not to recognize a good many people.  The people you do recognize, you still can’t place their name.  Funny how it was all once  so important.  A bit depressing actually that my peers have grown so old.  This is a reflection on me and I know it.  Several women looked damned hot.  I was proud of them.  Even prouder perhaps of the women who were once the golden trophy girls and now 30, 50, 60 pounds or more overweight.  It takes something to be able to walk into your class reunion that way.  I don’t gloat in my accomplishment.  I know how hard it is to maintain a figure.  I know how increasingly difficult it becomes to remain attractive past the age of 35.  Pretty much a doggone work of art.   All in all, people were very real.  High school was never very important to me.  My life was much more about what happened after school hours.  But it was nice in a sense to brush up against the past.  The whole thing was just dinner, drinks, and mingling.  Past a certain point my feet began to get itchy.  I wanted away from the rotten stench of oldness….of people my own age.  Dragged husband to Whiskey Bar, where I am fairly certain at this point I have well established my name as extremely drunken dancing girl.  Ahhhh, but they love me.  Yes, I am a train wreck, but I am a HOT ONE.   I drank and danced as if my very life depended upon it.  Then I drank and danced some more.  And then more.  Good looking, frisky, fun time is almost over.  I know this.  Certainly making the very best of the time I have left.  Of course I spent the better part of the morning with a hangover.  It is 3:36  PM and my headache is just beginning to fade.  Decided to give my body a day of rest.  Here’s to exceptionally drunken dancing.  Here’s to the man who sits not so patiently on the sidelines and loves me.

I am really way too wasted tired to be writing much of anything right now.  It is just 8:05 on a Friday night.  About ready to go nighty-night.  Gonna pull those blankets way down tight.  Work is good.  My boss is a doll.  Things couldn’t be much more ideal on that front.  Workouts are great.  I’ve even started taking a shower at my gym in the mornings.  Met a competitive lifter at my gym today which was really cool.  Saw her out of the corner of my eye lifting some heavy ass weights.  Squats all the way down.  Very cool.  Class reunion tomorrow, and I have a hair appointment in the morning.  Still have to find me a super-sexy-sexy outfit and some high heels to wear.  I am looking forward to it, though not in a big way.  More of in a slightly interested "this could be fun" way.   Ahhhhh…workouts, country living, full time job, good friends…….this is the life.  Throw in some more good times, hot males, a little more cage dancing………I’m actually pretty easily contented.

COPCOCKCOPCOCKCOPCOCK

3 X….real fast

Blah-diddi-blah.  What to blah about tonight?  Let’s make it an open book night shall we?  Expect me to bitch and complain about encrouching old age until the day I rot and die.  Or die and rot.  However the case may be.  Today’s workout was………2 hours in the AM.  30 minute elliptical, then some pretty solid back work.  Went up to 50 on my DB rows.  Rotten form.  Whatever works for me right?  Love it.  Honestly, I couldn’t have cared less about being at the gym today.  The thing that sets me apart from the people who try and fail, is that I still go anyway.  Sure I would rather be at home having a sweet caramel latte watching comedy television.  But I don’t.  I take my headache.  I take my tiredness.  I work right through it.  Even going on month 4 without an I-pod.  (I cannot wait to have my own tunes again.)  Lunch break I went back and did it again.  This time only 14 minutes of cardio (7 minute jog, 7 minute stairs) and some slight calf work.  I have decided to work my calves again.  You neglect them, they disappear.  I look at old people and I don’t want to go there.  I have absolutely no intention of living past 47.  Which means I have 9 years to get my groove on.  Going parachuting with my cousin next month.  That will be fun.  What else can I do before I die to say I lived my life in full?  I don’t really know yet.  I don’t know what I want.  I want to enjoy children’s laughter.  Fall days.  Fast drives down country roads.  What do I really want?  Still figuring it out.  I want to travel, but I don’t want to travel as an old shit.  I want to travel now or never.  Ok I know what else I want, but it might be illegal.  I love babies, sunshine, pretty rainbows, but I also love the dirty rotten stinking underground.  Which will win out in the end?  Only time will tell.  PS.  Dr Phil is for losers.  PPS.  NIN is in St Louis tonight.  Wish I were there.

I wish I were better looking.  I really do.  I know I play a vain bitch online sometimes, but really I am not.  In real life, I am actually very humble.  I see so many beautiful people daily.  I think, "I would love to have those eyes, that nose, chin, legs, ass."  I am not dissatisfied with myself, just honest.  Youth, in particular, has become very beautiful to me.  If you are under age 30, you automatically qualify.  I adore the spirit of youth as well.  I relate well to the story of Dorian Grey.  If I had a portrait I could throw all the sins of time upon, I would do it.  Even if it eventually led to my destruction.  If vampirism were real, I would be the first to line up sucking blood.  Humanity itself is quite beautiful to me.  I do see the attraction of the older lady.  In an odd way, I find lines and wrinkles to be magnetically appealing.  Why?   Because they add a level of vulnerabilty to a person.  I believe true beauty lies not in perfection, but in imperfection.   This is on a spiritual sense, what I find to be so beautiful about sex.  It is the shedding of illusion.  See me.  See me for who and what I really am.  Bask in my imperfections.