MILF HUNTRESS

I love my gym. It is the perfect gym.  Only one thing could make it better, and this is if it were open 24/7.  I know this will never happen, because then you would have people like my friend there…living 24/7.  THAT gym in question made a big mistake of course.  They left protein powders and blenders lying around.  That and free internet access.  Hell….I’D almost live there,…and I HAVE a home.  Yes I love my gym.  ALMOST live for it.  I do have a life.  But here is what I am realizing.  My time spent AT the gym, enables me to enjoy my life OUTSIDE of the gym.  Like the guy who came into my library today that I haven’t seen for 15 years, that I had a crush on when I was 10…(strange how many people have moved out this way).  HE walked into my library today, and I felt no overwhelming need to jump 12 feet to dodge behind a desk.  I can walk around proud in my own skin.  THIS is what the gym does for me. 

How about a good old fashioned workout blog?  This morning was an 8 minute jog, 22 minutes elliptical, and about a good hour + of legs, then another 5 minute jog.  I couldn’t tell you everything I did, but yes, I beat my own ass.  Cleaned up, went to work…worked a full 8 hour day…went back afterwards for a 7 minute jog, 100 walking lunges, then a 3 minute run.  Honestly, I was hurting.  Tired from a full day…not really wanting to be there.  Almost feeling sick.  Sometimes you do just have to push through the pain.  Thoughts of a medium, thin crust, vegetarian Pizza Hut Pizza with jalapeno rings kept me moving.  I came home and ate the whole thing.  Been thinking lately about how unpretty I feel while working out.  Sometimes I’m just a frightful mess.  Honestly the only thing that gives me permission to workout this way are supplement advertisements that say, "train like a freak".  I don’t even know what company uses this logo, but it works for me.  Yes I feel like a freak while I am lifting.  It is so unfeminine.  To progress you really do have to be willing to lift some serious weight and make some fearful messed up faces.  Gladly I work out alone most of the time.  But it does explain my need to dress up and feel pretty outside of the gym.  Reading a short story in the KC Star tonight by Richard W. Jennings, I fell across a good quote.  This author is talking about photography when he says,  "Like painting, sculpture, dancing, writing and music, if it takes constant practice and the exclusion of all else to get things right…then it qualifies as art.  And, as the life of every great artist proves, once you’ve finally gotten it right, you’ve long since gone crazy."  Richard W. Jennings says this about photography.  I say this about bodybuilding.  The ultimate in physical art and body modification.

Now that I am working full time my family has made it to the big leagues.  Last night, my husband went out and bought some Charmin Ultra.  After a full lifetime wiping with the Always Save, my sore bum days are over.

He also took daughter number 2 out to get her ready for the town pageant.  She got the heels, the fake nails,…is PISSED that we aren’t taking her for a full facial, make-up and upsweep hairdo.  I’m suddenly feeling very Texan. 

Actually very proud of my daughter because she is "neva scared" and will try out for ANYTHING.  She’s like, "Hey!  Think I’ll run for class president…….makes it.  Just like that.  Very proud.  This is the daughter with my sense of humour and who loves to eat…also loves to have people wait on her.  My little apple blossom.

Watched "Mogambo" last night.  This with Clint Eastwood.  My geriatric boyfriend told me to.  Said, "Guess which girl in it reminds me of you"?  I had to choose between Ava Gardner and Grace Kelly.  Either way I come out a winner.  Ah, but no.  He’s talking personality.  I can guess which one he’s pegged me as.  It’s always the smart mouthed, wise cracking, city girl, rough around the edges, but with one hell of a figure…lol… and a heart of gold.

I have realized lately that some people don’t come into the library for books.  Some people come into the library to be waited on for free.  This is the only control they have.  More to be pitied than censored.  I can always sense the ones who are working a power play.  I know the ones reaching deeply to have some inner psychic needs met. Seriously, sit back and watch the game of life sometime kiddos.  What goes on behind the scenes is quite amazing.

I think I am going to start calling this the "i wish i could quit you" blog.  Speaking of "Brokeback Mountain", this was on at the gym tonight.  You know…this would have been a sexy show.  But it showed them growing old together…and I just don’t need to see any of that shit.  Show me the two young studs going at it and we’ll call it good.  None of that old guy stuff.

Hmmm…so blsmith went to the bash..that wasn’t a bash.  I kindof figured this was the case when Bill stopped blogging two weeks ago.  lol  Hubbie and I definitely would have attended if we thought it was still going on.  But I mean, seriously.  Can you blame him?  You know once Bill got to thinking about it, the idea of 50-100 stray online bodybuilders coming to his personal home couldn’t have seemed like that great of an idea.

Mmmm.  My workouts.  Still sweet as pie.  I am very proud that even working full-time I am not slacking in this area.  Strange thing.  I was down to 142 last week, and am up to 150 today.  I haven’t been THAT bad.  I’ll take it as water weight, but will definitely be watching the scale more closely this week.

I have found a nice no brainer rhythm for the time being.  I put very little to no thought into my diet or workout these days.  It’s a simple little pattern that works for me.

By the way, I am jogging again.  (Feels SO GOOD….in a 10 minute way.)  This time around, I am only jogging in a sports bra (which horribly flattens my implants)…but oh well.  Must protect the investment.  Still absolutely convinced I am the same size as before.  I just have far too many other things going on in my life right now to obsess about it.  Like ….what sort of nipple jewelry to buy…little hearts, butterflies, connective chains….  I’ll eventually get an ultrasound and go from there.

My daughters were shocked, horrified, dismayed, upon returning home from the lake with grandma and finding mommy at home with pierced nipples.  I thought they would think it was neat…or at least I was hoping for funny.  "Oh what will that crazy Mommy do next?"  No, they hated it.  Took them awhile to get over it.  I asked my middle daughter what it meant to her.  What kind of person did she think got piercings?  "Not very intelligent ones", she said.  "The opposite of classy".  Well that was a shooter.  May as well move into the trailer, put my hair up in rollers, and get the meth to cooking.  "Mom, don’t you want to be taken seriously?" my daughter asked.  I had to think about this for a moment.  Rubbed my head slowly and decided no.  Get yourself taken seriously…the next thing you know you’ll be babysitting children, volunteering for church camp, sitting in on the school board.  No thank you.  Serious time is through.  Now get out that needle.  My clitoral hood needs piercing.

Went out with my hubbie.  His line of the night was "two perfectly good nipples…and you want to go and put holes in them". 

For the first time in forever the night didn’t end up in a fight.  When we go out for a night on the town, we eye eachother warily like boxers hitting the ring.  The night always seems to end in drama.  But we did good last night.

Went to "Crying Heart Tattoo" to check prices before we ate.  A very nice, heavily tattooed young man gave us the ins and the outs.  We then headed our way to eat some Tex-Mex style Mexican (and a couple shots of liquid courage for me).

The piercing itself was not bad.  Two deep breathes…in…out….some rather extreme but fast and well contained pain…it was over with.   The look on my husband’s face standing above me was priceless.  I haven’t seen him look so stricken since childbirth.  He has witnessed three. Same startled look each time.

We were going to go to the casino, watch Batman, get a room.  But ehhhh…we’re getting old.  Creatures of habit, we ended up at the usual country bar locale.  I did see my girlfriend there.  Hubbie was very kind.  Let me dance and flirt all night long while he sat chewing gum and drinking water.  This is all I want.  Just permission to have a good time.

2 boys in particular were rather sweet.  They were my repeat offenders.  I like it when they keep coming back to me.  Also saw Tommy, my long lost 17 love.  We talk a bit about training.  Last night looking around the bar I told him, "this stuff is fun you know…but I basically live for bodybuilding".  He seemed to know what I was talking about.   Always tells me that I am looking good, but after the initial, Him: "Married?  Happy?  Faithful?", he has never came onto me. 

He supposedly knows some moves that work the inner muscle???  Something that really brings it out?  Someday soon I am dragging him to my gym to train me.  (Even if hubbie wants to come along.)

Tommy’s a good guy.  (In a relationship as well.)   But the guy is huge and steroid free.  I know he could teach me a thing or two.  And I fancy I know alot.

My blog has become a bit like the undead.  Dead but not dead.  Crucified but still bleeding.  I have come to the conclusion that how one lets their blog die is how they will one day let their own selves die.  How do you prefer it?  Quick and powerful or slow and meaningless?  I can be like my grandpa, still living till 92, giving a grand performance of in and outs of hospitals and nursing homes.  He gave his last and final breath time and time again being hovered and watched over…"NOW he’s dead….OH SHIT….he’s still breathing."  OR, I can go like my Aunt Bertha…the woman who in life gave me everything I wanted…and by dying, each and every penny for my post weight loss surgeries.  She fell and hit her head one day, dying a few short hours afterwards.  Grandpa I never mourned.  Aunt Bertha…I woke up crying for over a year afterward.

I am getting my nipples pierced this weekend.

I like that it is something hidden and related to both pleasure and pain. 

Plus…I just kind-of like nipples.

Sometimes when I see my pictures I just want to reach out and grab myself.  What’s this called?  Frottage?  About my blog.  Having some difficulty with restraint.  Somebody slap me?  Words from a Goldfrapp song keeps coming to mind…."into my mouth, i can’t keep it shut".  You know I’ve taken alot of pictures in my day.  I figure after we are all gone, three things remain that show we once lived…that we once had life on a green planet called Earth.  Our written word, our photos, and our tombstone.  Hopefully I’ll leave a few good ones.  I guess my major fear with my blog is that people will actually take me seriously.  If people haven’t figured out that I am a big joker by now, I guess they never will.  "Fill every hole".  Damn I just like the sound of that.  It’s so freaking filthy….I love it.  There was a point on here when I did my best to sound dirty.  I had my little spies you know.  At some point I figured the only thing filthier than fill every hole was to declare love for animals.  And I didn’t want animal control to come and take my Reno away.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….my latest goal.  Can anyone tell me what the hell this means?  It seemed so profound at the time.  But I can’t make any sense of it.  I figure as long as I have my safety net…3 lovely daughters and a crazy husband that loves me, I will continue blogging.  But more like once every 3 days.  Lord knows we could all use a little suspense.  Kisses friends.  XXXX

Hello everyone. Thank you so much for your going away comments. I have been collecting each and every one like little prisms of rainbow coloured crystal. Yes it is very hard for me to stop. Yes, I love self expression and will have to find a different avenue. Perhaps interpreting art through creative movement. I did this once with my 3 kids and sister-in-law at The KC Museum of Modern Art, and it was funny as hell. I am going to miss telling you all about my private life, because I have found (Surprise, surprise!) that I am an emotional exhibitionist. Among other things. (Pictures still to come.) How else will I stay inspired? But here is the deal. I love my new full-time job. If you look deep into my eyes, you will see that they are now a deeper shade of purple green than ever before. This is because my mind is consistently filled with the idea of great green dollar bills…..and what I am about to do with them. While I do not believe that my little bodybuilding blog poses a threat to my job, (private life and work life being separate); I do believe that blogging with my community being aware of my blog, puts me at great risk of being, well,……just darned uncomfortable. After all, if someone comes in and rejects my overflowing maternal kindness, I want to know that it is because of my large and jutting breasts trapped tightly betwixt ill-fitting sweaters, not my naughty internet verbage.