I ate SO MUCH today. I could be mad at myself, but I won't lie and say it wasn't absolutely amazing. I starved myself at college, and will probably continue starving myself at college when I go back in August. Seriously, it's only because I'm lazy. When getting food involves effort, most of the time I won't bother. The only reason I eat constantly when I'm home is because I am constantly surrounded by food. The funny part is, it isn't even always good food. I'll just eat it if it's there in front of me. It's like my body's trying to make up for lost time. My thighs are not, though, and I need to lay off the cold pizza. Though it was spectacular, let me tell you.
I'm drinking at least two and a half or three liters of water a day, though, and I'm trying to increase it, so that's good. Water is amazing. It always depresses me that I have to remind myself to drink it, but when I do, it's worth it. I feel less tired and cranky and sore. Speaking of sore, that's exactly what I'll be tomorrow when I wake up at the crack'o to go to the gym. To be more sore. I went to yoga this morning in Dupont, and as usual it was fabulous. The male teachers always work you harder, no matter what the class is. It's good, though, I need to have my ass kicked. By yoga. Shut up, it's hard. Mostly because my hamstrings are tight as hell, but they're improving. Then I walked something like three miles back to my house.... It was just about to rain, the air was really thick and though it was humid and I was sweating like a hog, occasionally it would mist and it would feel fantastic... Ate some salad and roast chicken and delicious trail mix and then some melon later (I told you all I do is eat), passed the fuck out for two hours and then went to bellydancing. I already love my new teacher. She doesn't tell us explicitly what to do on every move, she just demonstrates a lot and has us follow her, which apparently is how bellydancing is traditionally taught. Secretly, I've taken this class before, but I want to make sure I'm doing it right before I move on. Also, the nice part about being a bellydancer is that everything is personal. It's a solo, improvisational dance. It doesn't really matter what class I'm taking, because the movements are going to be mine anyway, not the teacher's. Not to mention it's sexy as hell, and I just like watching other people doing it. Because bellydancers are hot no matter how you slice it, dude.
I should sleep, probably. I'm not ever tired before 4 am anymore, which is bad news. Maybe instead I'll go upstairs, smoke and design my new tattoo...
sounds like a plan.
I'm drinking at least two and a half or three liters of water a day, though, and I'm trying to increase it, so that's good. Water is amazing. It always depresses me that I have to remind myself to drink it, but when I do, it's worth it. I feel less tired and cranky and sore. Speaking of sore, that's exactly what I'll be tomorrow when I wake up at the crack'o to go to the gym. To be more sore. I went to yoga this morning in Dupont, and as usual it was fabulous. The male teachers always work you harder, no matter what the class is. It's good, though, I need to have my ass kicked. By yoga. Shut up, it's hard. Mostly because my hamstrings are tight as hell, but they're improving. Then I walked something like three miles back to my house.... It was just about to rain, the air was really thick and though it was humid and I was sweating like a hog, occasionally it would mist and it would feel fantastic... Ate some salad and roast chicken and delicious trail mix and then some melon later (I told you all I do is eat), passed the fuck out for two hours and then went to bellydancing. I already love my new teacher. She doesn't tell us explicitly what to do on every move, she just demonstrates a lot and has us follow her, which apparently is how bellydancing is traditionally taught. Secretly, I've taken this class before, but I want to make sure I'm doing it right before I move on. Also, the nice part about being a bellydancer is that everything is personal. It's a solo, improvisational dance. It doesn't really matter what class I'm taking, because the movements are going to be mine anyway, not the teacher's. Not to mention it's sexy as hell, and I just like watching other people doing it. Because bellydancers are hot no matter how you slice it, dude.
I should sleep, probably. I'm not ever tired before 4 am anymore, which is bad news. Maybe instead I'll go upstairs, smoke and design my new tattoo...
sounds like a plan.