A day (or two or three) in the life of...

Ok, body issues are working their way into my post. Somehow (yeah, this has been in place for last 32 years) I became that girl that has a small frame and thin build but has a soft rubenesque body. Boo... I want to be a tight girl... but lack the motivation. I just don't feel like spending 35 hours a week on resistence work and my body seriously requires that if I want to look like a tight chicky. Why must I let the media (perhaps the 17 Victorias Secret catalogs that are delivered to my door each week?) mess with my perception so? Fuck it, that's not me so accept it, right? Grrr... Yes. Ok, rant done. My wedding present to the future Mr. Clussy came in and whoa nelly.... Who'd a thunk? I'll leave it at that. ((patting me-self on back)) I'm really hoping Jemmy Pie comes down to TX. It's a possibility and I'm clinging onto it. Jemmy, I promise thee to not be with child till at the earliest Jan '09 and we can put our super hero outfits on and go out ...

So now that it's 2 months and counting for our big day, Cowboy and I are stepping it up a notch in the working out. We tried racing for a bit during our run last night till I reached a point where I had to stop, keel over in nausea and admit that I was getting too winded. double damn! Well, enough of these runs and I should be a bit faster and tighter ((crossing fingers)), we'll see. I sent all of our confirmed guests an email asking for their specifics for their meal choices for the reception as well as some song suggestions for the playlist. In this email I made a reference to YMCA being sung by ABBA. Cowboy's sister very politely replied "Did ABBA cover the Village People's YMCA? I'd like to request "Gimme that Nut" by Eazy E for the playlist. Can you put me down for Sea Bass? Thanks." Have I mentioned how much I love his sister? I'd marry her if I could (if Jeremy turned me down). I had my makeup done by a professional make up art...

The following is Jeremiahs responses to an obnoxious forward quiz and I love him dearly for it (except for the shiraz part, if I did that daily, my ass would never make it into work... he knows I save that for when I'm with him): Who are you? Jeremy When and how did we meet? AMS. I was a temp and you were late:) Do I smoke? Very, very rarely, but I've caught you a few times. Mostly under my bad influence. Do I drink? Does a bottle of shiraz a day count? (this was much more decent than my answer for him) Do I believe in God? Ummm...a little? Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it. Clussy. You picked it. Describe me in one word - Sexy. (explanation: he loves me) What was your first impression? Very cute, nice and funny. And late:) Do you still think that way about me now? Actually you're quite timely now. And I'll raise "very cute" to "hot". (again, I must stress that he loves me) Who do I remind you of? Looks wise...hmmm...a ...

I've got about 17 shimmering platinum strands of hair right at the front of my hairline that are glaring back at me in the mirror every day and it's really really hard not to just pluck 'em or run to the store for a box of natural instinct coloring. I'm trying to be good about letting my hair just be for a bit so that I can go to a salon and plunk over some money for them to color, highlight and cut my hair so that I can finally be happy with it. If I give them over $150 of my hard earned money (work's been seriously intense lately so believe me, it is hard earned) then I better love what I see. I'm also perusing all the magazines for the color and cut that I would like but I'm not finding the one. I want to be able to wash n' go and feel like I look half decent and not like a shaggy unkempt poodle with dull hair color or not always just throw my hair up in a clip because it's easier. I've gone to 'doing' my hair about once a week ...

If I had more discipline, I'd go for a run EVERY_MORNING. It just starts my day off so energetically as opposed to driving into work with my eyes half shut and still sleepy, hence, extra-grumpy. This morning, I had to take Cowboy to the airport by 6am ( ouchies ), so I got back home and it was STILL dark but I knew what I had to do. I put on my mp3 player, running gear and walked towards the door. Every time I put on my running shoes though, Skeeter thinks she's coming so she eagerly follows me and even does a fun lil jump of enthusiasm. I of course am so easy that I see this and feel so bad that I decided to go ahead and take her with me (even though I felt like running alone this time), which of course, puts her energy levels even higher than where they were before. When we first step outside of the house, it's like a race horse coming out of the gates (her, not me) and she's just outta control. It takes all the stern tone (more like yelling "SKEETER, DON...