Thursday,
May 1, 2008

Oh dear sweet bleeding Deity Of Your Choice

I'm sweating like a horse. And it's good.

Allow me to explain. For some women, good solid aerobics is all they need to peel off weight. I envy them, I truly do, because I can do aerobics until the cows come home, and while it give me nice tone in my legs and strengthens my heart, it does bubkes for weight loss. I'm 3/4 Eastern European -- I come from a people where they bred women who could pull a plow after a bad winter when they had to eat the ox. I'm genetically designed to be well-muscled, and when all that wonderful energy-soaking tissue isn't available my body looks at the available energy in the system, figures, "Well, might as well store it against a bad winter -- you never know when the Tsar's men will burn the crops," and suddenly I'm wearing fat jeans again.

So I have returned to the weights, and dear Glory but I can tell the difference. For one thing, I could probably rehydrate the Sahara with my sweat after a weight session -- I'm gulping water like it's going out of style, and minutes later it bubbles up out of my pores.

Yeah, I know, lovely image there, but it's true.

It also tells me that la bod is actually doing real work for a change, and work uses energy, and energy comes from stored fat and carbs in my system, and that leads to a Mellie who will be able to shop in the regular women's section one day soon.

And I'm serious about that -- when I get all of this padding off, I intend to turn into SF Writer Barbie. I will be hitting every damn store in the mall and trying clothes on left, right and central, even if I don't intend on buying a single thing. And it will be fun.

And in honor of it being the First of May

This is most definitely NSFW. But it's funnier than hell.

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