mymichele's Diaryland Diary
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Personal trainers and discombobulation
Okay, wow. Waking up at 8 AM to go lift weights with a personal trainer who looks like Arnold Shwarwhatever's little brother is not a good way to start out the day. This guy had me lifting weights for muscles I didn't even know I had. I am already hurting and I know tommorow I'm barely going to be able to move. But that is indeed a good thing. Hell, I'm looking forward to it! Well, not really.
I'm running out of witty things to say in guestbooks these days. So if you come here from a guestbook where I said "Hey! You rock!" or "I'm looking forward to reading more of your stuff!" Or "You rock my balls and I don't even have any!", just know that I mean it with all my heart. I do! I swear.
My Computer Applications teacher had a potty mouth today. I am still jolted when a teacher cusses in class. She said, "People don't really give a shit anymore," and I was like umm umm umm umm, I'm gonna tell on you!! But yeah. I didn't. She also used the world "discombobulated" about 7 times for different things, and it just made me giggle anxiously.
I didn't go to the first feminist group meeting today because I was determined to go home and take a nap before I went shopping. But how could I sleep when the season premiere of Oprah was on? BB told me it was on and that I couldn't take a nap until it was over. He's in love with Dr. Phil, you see.
Tonight I went shopping with my mom. To the fat chicks store. I hate shopping for clothes, yet I love it, too. I hate it because the stuff at the fat chicks store looks too big on me, but the stuff at places like the Gap or Express are too small. I'm in Fat Girl Limbo, is what I'm in. My mom bought my some really neato stuff that I look decent in, so I'm excited about that. We then went to the food court where I eventually started crying. It wasn't my mom's fault. I know she'd dissapointed in some little way that I didn't turn out to be model type beautiful like she did. That's how she met my dad. By being a model and such. But she's my mom, and she loves me, and I know that. She just wants me to be happy. And right now I'm just so severely frustrated with losing weight and everything associated with it. It's just a big fucking deal, and I know if I want to do it, I have to make it my life, and I have to make it more important than anything, and I don't know. It doesn't seem worth it.
Speaking of family, my brother sent me a reply to an email I sent him that just said "Good Times!" (He's on like a world tour or something, right now he's in Japan, and he sends everyone a weekly email). He said, "I have come to realize on this journey that we should talk more. Come on, we're brother and sister! We should communicate more!" Okay, bullshit boy. I'd really love to open the lines of communication with you, but I'm afraid there's only so much of your shit I can take.
My brother is full of shit. I've thought that ever since he went to college. I don't know how to explain it. He just is.
Anyway.
I've decided I need to see Rock Star again. I have grown a minor obsession for Mark Wahlberg. I'm even considering going to see Planet of the Apes! That is big time scary, right there. Here's some pictures for your amusement (well, for my amusement):
12:52 a.m. - September 11, 2001
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