Well, not exactly like her.  I just want to look like her.  Well, not exactly look like her.  I just want her arms.

One of the odd perks of being told that you can’t have any more children is that you can really take a look at your body and decide what you want to do with it.  There will be no more stretch marks, no more whacked out belly buttons, no more baby weight to lose.  This is it, kiddo. 

So I’ve decided to work on my arms.  That’s weird, I know, but I’ve always thought I’ve had kind of ugly arms–scraggly things with no muscle.  My roommates in college—a softball player and a swimmer—used to mock my chicken arms.  Now, I am rapidly entering the season of Relief Society arms, and I don’t have any excuses.  It’s time to make Evageline Lilly my role model. Or arm model, as the case may be.   And I think having her arms is as high as I’m going to aspire. I mean, I guess I could TRY to look like the rest of her body, but the goal here is to get motivated, not totally depressed.

Anybody got some cool arm exercises they want to share?  My favorite is when you are sitting on a chair, and you scoot your butt forward and off the chair, and put your hands where your butt used to be, and then you lower your butt to the floor, and without using leg muscles, lift your butt back up to the chair.  Serious work out, no weights required, and can be done in between reading blogs.

In other news, I just found an empty buillion cube container on the playroom floor.  It used to be full.  This means my dog ate the whole bottle.  What does eating about 25 foil covered beef-flavored salt licks do to a dog?  I mean to keep her outside most of the day.

Also, I have to say how much I love to blog.  I know I’ve been a little MIA lately, and I’d like to give you some awesome excuse about how I went on some jungle safari or something else wicked exciting.  The truth is, I’ve been kind of burned out, and also working on other writing projects.  You know, writing projects that require form, structure, transitions.  Yes, transitions, those tricky little buggers that always seem to be necessary in real writing.   But I’m done with those other projects (sort of, almost, well, kind of, not really), so I’m back in the world of loose transitions and random topics that don’t hang together the slightest, teeniest bit.  And I can even overuse adjectives and adverbs, and write overwrought sentences.  Ah, my unparralled rapturous joy glides in glorious and graceful leaps across the wafting meadow of my mind…..

And so, in the glorious tradition of blogging, which requires no metaphorical ending of any kind, I take my leave.

Thanks for stopping by. 

The end.