I want to be an Heiress Presumptive one day
I had a fantastique work out yesterday, so much so that I nearly threw up afterwards. I still don’t understand why you feel like throwing up after working out hard, and the internet didn’t provide much help, but there you are.
One thing I’ll remember for next time is to bring a book onto the gym floor. Waiting for people to get off the machines, even if it’s for a minute or two, is brain-breakingly boring, and I have the attention span of a hummingbird.
My least favorite machine is the elliptical, or as I call it, the Crackhead Nazi Torture Device. Of course, I happen to get on next to some skinny bitch who’s just racin’ away, and I barely know how to use the machine. And being a bad ass, I thought I’d set the resistance fairly high, and could barely get through two minutes before I felt like passing on. It doesn’t help that I take long walks during lunch and wear out muh knees ‘n’ legs, but we’ll work on that, won’t we?
I like Taylor Swift, but cautiously so. She’s a pretty girl, and she sings like she’s an old soul. It’s distinctive, but not what I would call sweet like Leann Rimes. Thing is, if the US government ever decided to put gay peope in concentration camps or some shit like that, I can totally see her doing a PSA supporting it. And for that reason, I just don’t know about her.
