Pumping Iron.

So the last couple of weeks has been filled with what I can only describe as a sudden panic that all I’ve been eating since the summer time has been chocolate and lard. Or at least that’s what is feels like. Like every other human being in January, I’ve begun the transformation into beautiful bikini butterfly by attempting to eat better and going to the gym.

In light of a certain recent extremely good psychopathic ballerina movie, I was motivated to take a class at my gym called ballerina bootcamp. If I wasn’t scared of getting my camera crushed between knuckles of steel, I would attempt to photograph my ballerina teacher who is a robot machine made of bone and sinew only. She literally can do power squats whilst balancing on what seems to be only 3 of her toes. I am in awe of her. And at the same time, I’m suspicious that all she eats is toilet paper and chalk like the gals on TLC’s “My strange addiction”. She’s that skinny. So there’s that, and I also started going back to my favourite hip hop dance class and a pilates class on the weekends. I’m so ready to be sinewy.

On top of all that, I am continuing to go to my singing group on Wednesdays (yes, I am 80), so I’ve pretty much scheduled myself to death a healthier me!

I was recently trying to psycho-analyze my obsession with extra-curricular activities and I came up with this: I am an only child. When I was young, I went to the Montessori school that my parents own and didn’t have too many friends in my neighbourhood. I think my parents thought after-school activities would be a good way for me to meet other kids instead of being a sad, only child in our house. And they were right! Not only did I love trying new things (I went through karate, gymnastics, soccer, curling, highland dance, Girl Guides and countless summer camps) but I made lots of friends, some of whom I remain friends with today despite no other connection apart from our childhood dance-bond. But now, as an adult who has lots of friends already, I can’t imagine a life where I don’t have activities to do after work. And I think thats weird. Other people do not feel like this. It has now been ingrained into my being that I should be participating in some kind of group or program during my free hours. Even though I would be perfectly happy sitting at home on the couch watching “Say Yes to The Dress” (which I still do often), I have a strange compulsion to go out and try new things, to meet up with these random people who you could have nothing in common with except that you’re all participating in this weird interest that brings you together. I like it.

So the pictures below are from my lovely pal Celeste’s birthday celebrations! We had a ladies-night style slumber party last weekend which was amazing and then a bar-style party at Unloveable for her and our friend Dave this weekend. Our friends brought two separate cakes to the bar which was awesome because who ever gets to eat cake at a bar? It perfectly complimented my new skinny drink of choice, vodka, soda and lime. There was nothing skinny about the cake. Sorry ballet teacher! I will do better this week!

Ugly: My toes. Until yesterday! Pedicure BOOM. (You never notice winter-time toe grossness until you start going to pilates again and become jealous of all the skinny bitches’ perfect feet. I’ll show you all!)

Awesome: The gym. I swear! I know it sounds like crazy talk after eating Christmas food and being really lazy for two months, but I’m not joking. I love the clean towels and the techno music and the giant showers and the “cold room” (my face gets very red after hip hop dance class). When I would rather eat an entire plate of nachos and sit on the couch, than move a muscle, my mind recalls the gym as a terrible place of woe and pain. But once I dragged myself back there, I realized that my memory had failed me and the gym is so much fun.

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