Mosquitos, that is. I was doing the Kathy Ireland video I talked about before, and saw all the marks on the ceiling where I, mighty mosquito hunter, have smashed and smeared my prey onto non-washable flat paint. Little fuckers.

Kathy Ireland does five parts: the warm-up, 12 min of abs, 12 min of buns, 12 min of thighs, and cool-down. I am proud to say (hold the applause) that I did about 85% of it all without modifications, and the 15% that I didn't do as she and her posse did, I only quit doing a couple of the exercises early. I found that 1) I can workout at night after being busy all day, thank the Lord Diet Dr. Pepper; 2) As much as I procrastinate and hate getting to the workout, when I'm doing it, it's not always so miserable and I get into a zone; and 3) I fear saggy skin and huge bulky dyke muscles. Sorry to the lesbians that may be reading this, but some ladies have massive man-legs and I am going to stretch like I am about to fuck a tall man with my ankles on his ears to avoid the bulkies.

God, I must be ovulating. I have been relating everything to sex today, and actually had an orgasm while getting into the car yesterday after the gyno appt. I'm hoping one had nothing to do with the other---Mower might think I want a duckbilled pussy apparatus for my birthday or something. I think it had to do with that wonderful little knob in the crotch of jeans that can hit the clit just right---I couldn't have gotten through junior high and high school without a good ol' pair of jeans (big shiteating grin).

Okay, cheesy little segment here: I am going to work on: drinking more water in the day. I am happy I: ate chicken breast for lunch and did my workout after everyone else was asleep.