God. Christmas was good…despite my PMS hitting right on Christmas day and the subsequent moments of emotional outpour due to missing friends and family. It hits at the darndest times, doesn’t it? Christmas was really really good. Jock’s mom outdid herself another year, and since this is the last year Jock will be with his family for an unknown amount of time…I think we made it count.
New Year’s was great too. A lot of fun. A lot of drink (and water inbetween the drinks). Why is it that when you ask for water at a bar, the reaction is always “What? What a loser! You want waahder!?” (always mocking my accent on that word, and always in a disgusted tone.) But I don’t mind because my head is always clearer in the morning than theirs is and I feel that much less hung over when mixed.
But now, I feel fat. Despite having run three or four times over the holiday time. I am fat. My face is swollen. My cheeks are puffy. My stomach is bloated. My head (despite the wahder) is muddy. I am ready for detox! Time to unleash the sexy body that is under that pudge. No more shaky butt. No more wobbly bits. Yoga starts next week. Three days run each week and sit ups during commercials. No alcohol. Yummy healthy food. Fuck this fatty MAL. Who’s with me?
ARGH!
