Things I think about when I'm not thinking about anything (ie: my ride is late and it's three a.m.)
I cut myself shaving this morning. One of those real gushers that happens when your cat tries to ram his fat, stupid head into the cold water faucet, thus turning it on full blast while you're balanced precariously on the edge of the tub, naked, but for a blue bra and I the cold water makes you jump and you flay yourself to the BONE on your big toe because yeah, you've got hair on your big toe and so what if you do?
I can see now that I didn't staunch the bleeding and there's a speck of blood on my khaki capri pants where I put them on. I don't think these capri pants look as good on me as I first thought they did when I tried them on in the store. I'm just not one of those girls who can wear them well (woah is me) because I'm quite hippy, short, and I have HUGE calves. Like, gi-normous calves. But my girl Lorraine at the gym I go to (yes, still. I know, it's a miracle) has been showing me THE ONE TRUE WAY to get my calves to appear not quite as big as pop-eye's fore-arms.
What you do is you stand on a step (the one from my entry-way to my bathroom � I have a weird apartment � works just fine) and you kind of bounce. You do this until your calves are on fire and you're screaming that you want to die, just get thin already stupid, fat calves! A pox on my mother's family and her fat calve genes! I could have been a lithe, basketball-playing, thin-calved beauty, but nooooo! I've got legs like tree stumps because my mom and her ancestors skipped generations of gym classes.
So I hope it works. I can see muscles reforming under the layer of fat. So maybe.
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