Burn, baby, burn!

Just a quickie today.

Did a smattering of floor work and weights at the gym today with my favourite asian, Ann, and man oh man am I feeling it already. Probably because it is the second day in a row I have done quite a lot of ab related exercises, but still, phwoar!

My shoulders, arms and stomach are suffering that delicious post exercise burn that screams ‘fuck I’m sore, but fuck I’m awesome!’ Loving it. An excellent incentive to get back in there tomorrow and do it all over again.

I am determined to weight 70kg by the very latest, end of 2012. I have been a fatty for far too long! One day I will post (full clothed, I promise!) so called ‘before pics’ of me when I was the fattiest I have been. Nothing like holidaying to force you to get in a whole lot of full body shots! Usually all my photos are of my face!

Anyway, I better go to bed and stop rambling about nothing in particular. Mum is dragging me to the shops tomorrow to buy me a birthday present. All of a sudden because I am older it is like I get to pick what I want for my birthday. I don’t want anything, except maybe the suprise of opening something and not knowing what is going to be inside. How ungrateful I must sound! But I guess it is just a little bit of mourning for another little bit of innocence and childhood lost.

I shall leave you with my favourite exercise motivation ever.

xx

There was a moth crawling in my sleeve…

So I was sitting here getting ready to formulate another smashing blog post, and kept feeling that creepy crawly feeling on my left arm. I thought I was delusional, as I get the creepy crawly feeling at least once a day for whatever reason, but upon further investigation, I discovered a moth had somehow gotten in there. Silly little moth.

🙂

Today I helped my favourite whorebag Victtoria ‘run’ the op shop her mum, ‘Queen Dyke’, works at while she nipped out for a while. I love op shops. I love the eclectic bunch of crap, discarded clothing, and former loved items. I love rifling through all of this stuff to find my newest treasure. I love that musty op shop smell. Possibly the best part of op shops though? The clientele.

The op shop in question is in the lovely suburb of Flemington (*insert mild sarcasm here*). As a result, it attracts a wide variety of Asian, African, slightly left/right/up/down of the centre people, and a lot of people who frequent op shops because their socio-economic status prevents their affordability from being sufficient to buy new clothing/crockery/books etc. You get your lovely grandmas pinching pennies, your hipsters buying out ALL the cool clothes in one fell swoop, and your usual riff raff and down-and-outers trying to scam you down to the last cent. Which is annoying considering this op shop is considerably cheaper than the big warehouse varieties like Savers.

My favourite people are the ones who tell you their life story. All about their mother/father/sister/brother/daughter/son/friend/dog/elephant/giraffe. Whether or not you care. You get it anyway. I just love getting that micro slice of another persons life. It is what I loved about working in retail for four years. I hated the paperwork and the hoopla that came with the job, but I loved chatting to my regulars.

The next best part of spending a day working in an op shop? When customers are scarce, you can scour the racks for finds. I got a (I suspect) never/rarely worn black dress with white polka dots that fits like it was custom-made, and an adorable little tan leather purse (made in italy) that is in terrible condition but that I am going to inject a bit of love into to try to spruce it up a bit. If it doesn’t work, well who cares, it is cute as anyway, perfect for a night out!

You never know what you might find at the op shop... or how stupid alcohol will make you act and look!

I will definitely be heading back to the op shop for some more days of fun.

And to buy clothes. Lots and lots of clothes.

🙂 xx