Impulsive Tammy Strikes Again!!!

Yes… I've gone and pulled one of my "let's make a life-altering decision in the blink of an eye" moves this week.

We all know how I get fidgety when I've been in one place too long. I need big changes to keep things interesting. I've been feeling that way since Christmas, and the Zoloft hasn't made it go away, so this week I decided to do something about it. My lease at my apartment is up at the end of the month, and the rent was going up AGAIN. I'm sick of paying what amounts to a mortgage on a crappy apartment. I'm sick of the noise and the sirens in the city, and I just want some stinking peace and quiet.

So brilliant me, decided that I can get more for my money in the country where the only noise I'll hear is the birds and the crickets (and the backfire of big cowboy trucks, and the occasional rifle shot, of course. That's okay... Cowboys are sexy. ). I went to my apartment office this morning, put in my 60 day notice, met with a realtor, and signed a lease for a GORGEOUS 3 bedroom, 2 bath BRAND SPANKING NEW (so new that it's not totally finished yet) duplex in Springtown of all places. And the rent is only $135 more than I pay for my dinky little 1/1 apartment! (Grammy did manage to convince me to try renting first. My original plan was to buy a house! Impulsive Tammy can be reasoned with a little bit anyway )

Before you all make fun of me for moving back to the place I couldn't wait to leave, bear in mind there is a Kohl's, Hobby Lobby, Lowe's, Home Depot, Kirkland's Home, Target, etc. not 15-20 minutes away now. No more having to drive 45 minutes to get to something good. I can have all of my stores nearby, but I can have some stinking peace and quiet while I'm at home. It will probably take some getting used to though. I already panicked a little because there was only one deadbolt on the door, and it can be opened from the outside. What happened to needing three locks??? I have the "safety" deadbolt that locks everybody out at the apartment! I have a feeling I'll be calling Jake and Sam for a while because I'm freaked out by the silence at night. They'll have to come sleep on my couch like the old days. Only this time, THEY can protect ME.

So, as of Friday, May 25th, I will once again be a resident of my hometown.

I think this life-altering, impulsive decision will turn out better than my $40,000 brain-fart when I up and moved to Portland. But then again... I never think my impulsive life-altering decisions are a bad idea at the time. Check back with me in a few months after I've been driving an hour each way to and from work every day and have spent $40,000 in gasoline alone. I might have changed my mind. But for now... I'm thrilled silly about living in a "nearly" house!

Wish me luck! (And if you are an able-bodied male-type person, give me a call! I can put you to work! )

The Brutal Honesty of a Two-Year-Old

Buddy and me playing... Me on the couch, Buddy holding my hands jumping and jumping trying to see how high he can go... Buddy jumps over my head and says, "Uh-oh..." I say, "What?" Buddy pats the top of my head and once again says, "Uh-oh..." I become indignent... "Are you pointing at Aunt Tammy's white hairs?!?" Buddy snickers and says, "Yessss..."

Ahhh, yes... Nothing like the brutal honesty of a two-year-old...

I'll be coloring my hair this weekend.

Random's Ramblings #1

I hate to sweat. Sweating is yucky. It feels gross, and it makes you smell bad. I came to this brilliant realization yesterday as Christy and I were leaving the gym, and non-suspecting members of the public ran away from us. I would like to believe they were merely intimidated by our newfound bodybuilder physiques, but seeing as how we've only been working out for three weeks, I think I'm leaning more towards the "Please don't poison us with your toxic sweat fumes" excuse. Why people choose the gym as their ideal location to pick up a mate is totally beyond me. Maybe I'll understand it better when I have my "tenderloin" body and men will fall at my feet whether I reek or not.

The Continuing Saga

Skinny Bitch wasn't our Work-out Nazi after all yesterday. Apparently her job is to scare the living crap out of you during your first work-out and make you think she's going to be your drill sergeant forever just to see how dedicated you are. Luckily for Christy and me, we're dedicated.

We went back for what we were certain was going to be another session of scary demands, and instead got the sweetest girl to do our upper body training. We've both decided that this sweet girl is going to be our role model. She's thin, but curvy. She had a little meat on her, but she wasn't fat by any means. Not like a slab of roast beef or anything. More like lean meat. Christy and I now call her "Tenderloin."

Not only did Tenderloin help us with all of the upper body equipment and give us both workout programs, but she also helped us with the leg stuff too (so we wouldn't have to have Skinny Bitch again). Have you ever attempted to use some of that equipment? THANK GOD we go to an all-women's gym, because I found myself in some positions that contorted my body in ways that only porn stars use! There's this one machine used to work on inner and outer thighs. Thank goodness I'm still fairly flexible! And the machine for your butt… It is indescribable! I wouldn't even know where to begin. You know it's bad when you look at a piece of equipment and can't even tell what part of your body goes where.

But, we've been having a great time, and although we're still a little sore, I know I am well on my way to becoming beef tenderloin myself!

My Latest Endeavor

Now that I'm about a third of the way to my ultimate weight loss goal, I decided to add a new step to my weight loss ladder. I joined a gym this week. Joining the gym was a major hurdle… Actually GOING to the gym was another matter entirely.

You see, I haven't done any exercise AT ALL to speak of since I lived in Oregon and Melissa and I went to our apartment gym every night to watch Friends and walk on the treadmills. That was 6 years ago… I haven't done any REAL exercise since I was coaching gymnastics 40 hours a week in college… 12 years ago! So when I stepped into the gym for what I THOUGHT was an orientation on how to use the equipment, you can imagine my shock when that scrawny white girl (herein referred to as "Skinny Bitch") made me get on a bike and told me I was going to ride it for 20 minutes! After picking my jaw up from the floor and silently cursing her for about 10 of the 20 minutes, I started remembering that I actually LIKE working out. I finished the bike just fine. I even went an extra minute just to stick it to her. Although I don't think she was impressed.

Skinny Bitch then led me to the treadmill and set me up for another 20 minutes. "NO PROBLEM! I LOVE THE TREADMILL!" Unfortunately, after my 20 minutes were up, I TOLD Skinny Bitch that I loved the treadmill. She told me that I obviously wasn't doing it right if I loved it so much. Then, she made me RUN! "WHAT THE F#*%?!? ARE YOU FRICKIN' KIDDING ME!?! MY BODY HASN'T RAN IN 20 YEARS!!! NO WAY IN HECK AM I GOING TO RUN" I said.

I ran for 30 seconds. Skinny Bitch is scary.

So, I did 45 minutes of cardio on Tuesday and Wednesday, as well as 20 minutes of abs both days. I did my 20 minutes of abs today as well as 30 minutes of stretching exercises. I am determined to get my flexibility back (I was very bend-y when I was in college.) I hurt in places that I didn't even know I had. But I must admit, I really do like working out. Maybe not DURING the workout, but definitely AFTER…

Wish me luck tomorrow! Skinny Bitch is scheduled to torture me at 3:30pm SHARP (She even called to remind me! I think she gets enjoyment out of making me suffer). Something about an hour of cardio and work on my arms… I don't even want to know…