Picture Fail

Back at Starbucks, hopefully no one notices I brought my own coffee. I've strategically placed my blue travel mug sporting a different coffeehouse name behind myself and my laptop screen...

*glance glance siiiiip*

This morning, lugging detergent across the front lawn to the laundry room, I could sense the coming of fall. It was a weird cosmic "in the air" kinda sense, and maybe the yellowing leaves of the black walnut trees too.

I had the weekend off, so I did attempt picture taking of my space. "Attempt" is indeed the key word because my camera is officially dead, angrily tossed back into a box, frustratingly tangled in now useless cords.

Relying on my camera phone, I can now admit with confidence that I fail to develop as a bona fide photographer.

Here are the good ones of the few snapshots I took:



the front of the mansion


my sun porch - and it's not the picture that's crooked



kitchen area - with my amazing green oven


a gift from the previous tenant - bedroom window and deck outside

I live in a mansion on an 800 acre farm

I'm sitting at a small table in the corner of Starbucks, my favorite bronze stilettos clicking against the adjacent chair occupied by my empty laptop bag. I keep glancing at the tiny clock in the corner of my computer screen, counting down the minutes of my brief 2-hour session of free complimentary Internet.

Just a few hours ago I completely finished settling into my new apartment. I'm still awaiting the arrival of my glorious books, but everything else is cleaned, unpacked, and livable.

And I love it all. The brown wood paneling, linoleum floors of oranges and yellows, deep window sills of chipping paint, a large crooked sun porch and the equally large collapsing deck.

"It gives it character," I say.

Also, it's ten minutes from my job, and everything else... all the restaurants, shopping, and businesses you can imagine. And did I mention I'm only 4 miles from Beaver Stadium? Football season is about to start, and college students are everywhere.

I will make an effort to take pictures tomorrow and post them later this week. But for now I'll continue to torture myself and refrain from buying any delicious coffee from which the aroma currently engulfs my nasal cavity. The clinking of mugs and espresso machines whirring behind me, all the more enticing...

Operation: Muscle Mass

One year ago I moved South. In those 12 weeks there is no doubt I have changed. Changed in the sense of perspective and values. And while the rest of the year was spent in economic hell, I took advantage of the time off and began to change my physical person.

I'll come right out and say it: I am a fitness freak.

I was always fond of running, and have intermittently weight lifted since I was 12 years old. Now I have myself in a satisfying fitness routine that keeps me in shape and toned.

I wouldn't sign myself up for a 10k marathon, or enter a fitness competition just yet, but I'm already noticing the differences in my muscular make up and increased tolerance in how much and how often I work out.

If I really want to increase muscle mass [and necessary weight gain], I'll need to compensate with my eating habits, meaning I'm looking at food like a nutritional label. A big juicy steak is one tasty slab of Potassium. Chocolate milk = Calcium with extra Calories.

I find this both annoying and disturbing because I don't want to end up obsessive. The results, however, are already paying off.

My stomach used to have an awkward bulge like a character straight out of Dr. Seuss.
...or at least one inspired.

But look! I have abs!!!