There is a tin of smoked almonds looking at me, challenging me to a duel. i don't know who will win today. I did, however, run for an hour at the gym, plus did a kazillion pull ups and dips, so maybe it's a draw. (Oooh, and there was a totally hot older man with salt and pepper hair next to me on, like, every machine, and it was very motivational to not quit early.
Some times it is SO HARD to not sing out loud with my mp3 player while exercising in public. Songs I almost busted out with today:
* Enter the Sandman
* You Know My Name is Rock! (damn, that's a good running song)
* Roxanne, Roxanne
* I Like Big Butts <-- this one almost makes me start to pop-lock, too, which... that's not conducive to treadmill activity. Or being a white woman in her 30s.
Okay, I ate six almonds and I'm putting them up in the cupboard
In conclusion, my icon is freaking hot. Why is that man so damn perfect? (I don't know if it's his surliness or his food-gasms that win me over, I really don't.) And happy birthday to