Well, well well. Here we are. I would like to make a sacrifice to the gods of physical fitness to pay homage for the beautiful way in which my body is changing. Also because it's taken them long enough to start blessing me that i'm beginning to feel like perhaps something more is required of me than burning candles in their name. Perhaps a live chicken, or a goat...or a skinny chick of the girl variety. Of course, that's just because i want to, not because i think it would please them. I have often considered how it is that these fabulously finicky gods of all things earthly can be appeased. It seems i am always pissing off at least one of them. I am starting to learn how I piss them off, but frankly i'm still in the dark about exactly how to make them love me, dote on me, shower me with their sweet blessings. I piss them off by bragging. This is how it works: I say something casually in conversation like, "my kids haven't been sick all winter, " and BAM they both have the pukes and strep throat and a rash. I remember one time bragging about being thin without effort. oops. So the gods listen, i have learned that. The transportation gods were really bent for a while there, and i really have no idea what i did to them...perhaps they are from Detroit, and heard that I preferred Japanese made vehicles...or perhaps they just knew i was a really fast driver so they wanted to protect others from me by always throwing car trouble in my path. it didn't work. i'm still a fast driver, but a damn good one. i never tailgate, i always use my turn signals, and i concisely participate in the intricate dance of the 4-way stop. oh well. they're off my back...although now they'll probably be back with a vengeance since i mentioned them. so anyway, the phsycial fitness gods were my nemeses for a while there frankly. I have hit the gym 5 days a week for the past 9 months and i'm only just getting close to seeing the results i want. Could it possibly have been the frequent stops at McDonald's or the obsession I had with baking? I think that was the curse of the fitness gods--giving me the talent of being a good cook and a taste for dessert. Damn them.