You Show Me Yours...

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away....

I tried to figure out how long we've been doing this thing, and I *think* it's in it's 5th year? Not sure. Ask Rude Cactus if you really have to's all his fault, anyways.

Last year, I was all like Delurk! and I'll add you to my blogroll! and then right that very week, my blogroll service shut down. You ever try to re-build a five year old blogroll? Yeah.

So this year, I'm not going to make any grandiose, sweeping gestures that I can't follow through on, but in the interest of getting you to out yourself, I'll out myself a little bit.

You know how they say everything's bigger in Texas? Yeah.

Four years ago, that said a significantly smaller number.

Right after we moved to Texas, I was like Hmm, I really have to do something about my ass. So I thought about what I ate and made better choices and a year later, I'm about 20 pounds heavier than I was. So fuck my life.  I bought that 30 Day Shred bullshit and here's the official review:

See, I was that girl in grade school who sat in the bleachers during gym, looking all sullen and pale with huge dark circles under her eyes and lips that were the most subtle shade of blue while you did push ups and sit ups and jumping jacks and ran miles because I have two holes in my heart, but I have the kind of two holes in my heart that, in 1975, led my doctors to say to my parents, "well, you can fix the holes, or you can just wait and see. If she makes it to 14, you should be okay" and I have the kind of two parents who didn't have enough money to gamble, but they sure did have enough kids to.

Don't worry...I totally made it to 14.

But I couldn't take gym class ever. So I'd read or do math or sort books in the library or get the shit beat out of me on the playground because I was the kind of kid who would use her spare time to read or do math or sort books in the library and then one day, that goddamn Presidential Fitness Test would come along and good old Ronny Reagan didn't give to shits what my doctor's note said, I was doing a set of chin-ups, so help him god.

And so, for about a week every year, the gym teacher would make me take gym class so that I could pass that test. And that is that exact sort of pain I feel like right now, except I asked for this.

So anyway, I'm officially a #shredhead and I'm still minding what I eat and I quit smoking for real, I think, and I learned at least seven new swear words in the 20 minutes I worked out with Jillian Michaels so I'm still getting a decent education during PE.

Alright, your turn. Delurk away....