S acorn's diary
2007-02-07 - hey nineteen


I've been crazy-go-nuts busy, and I've turned into a complete work-out/fitness freak.

I've been doing hour-and-a-half spin classes twice a week at 5 a.m. and these insane Bikram yoga (aka hot yoga) classes - I signed up for the 10 classes in 30 days package. I've been four times already and I'm completely addicted. It's given me a renewal of spirit, and a calmness within that I haven't had in a long, long while. All that, plus back-to-back Saturday/Sunday longrides on my bike - last weekend it was 25 miles each day. This weekend I'm supposed to up it to 31, then the following weekend will be 36. Yowza!

My legs are toit like a toiger, yesh yesh.

And you ought to squeeze my ass next time you see me, talk about buns of steel.


I have to get up so early to do all my workouts, so I have to go to bed early, and so I haven't been really getting on the computer very often, and when I do, it's just to check my email really quick and then jump off.

Also, my little sister's bachelorette party is this Saturday, and I'm in charge of planning it. I'm making a penis-shaped cake for the occasion.

She's getting married in 2 weeks, things are getting crazy! (Becky + Henry = love forever.) This has been in the works for a long, long time. The've known each other for nineteen years - she was 9 when they met, although they didn't start dating then, if you must know. They've been dating for about 10 years, isn't that just crazy?!?

I'm so happy for her!!!


What else, what else?

I got out of my yoga class Wednesday night at 6 p.m., I was all tripped out. The world was all bright and shiny, more than I remember it being before I went in to class, there was a beautiful sunset in the Houston sky, I listened to "let the good times roll" on the radio by the Cars on the way home. Amor was there when I walked thru the door. Life's good in his arms - I feel all safe and calm and love there.

I really have to go because I have to get up at 4:15 tomorrow.

I'm sorry I haven't updated in 15 days.

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