Saturday, April 23, 2011

But Jillian Michaels Isn't French!

Yesterday I had a Facebook conversation with a published writer friend, whom I asked for advice about writing. 

"Write a book," said she.  "Or just write."

"But I'm like, really busy," said I. "I mean, seriously.  You have no idea.  I have nine kids.  That's right in between eight and ten.  I don't have the time."

"There was a famous French writer who wrote fifteen minutes a day in the time it took his wife to prepare dinner.  In one year, he had a novel."

"So, you're saying I need a wife?  Cuz I haven't had reason to look, but I think my doctrine could have a problem with that...also, my husband.  And what was this French lady preparing that only took fifteen minutes a night anyway?  Were they having cold cuts every night or something?"

"I think you should go back to ballet," she answered. "And stop putting so many photos on your blog.  And arrange your thoughts better, you ramble.  Can you be more concise?"
So then I poked her mercilessly and sent her really annoying FB game requests and random suggestions of friends she doesn't know.  Not really.  And she didn't say that thing about the ballet.  Mostly because she's smart enough to know that I no longer fit into the pink tights and even if I were to fit into the pink tights, the world is not ready to see the result.  Also against my doctrine is pink tights.

Speaking of which, some funny bunny shrunk all the pants in my closet again.  I'm considering possibly maybe purely hypothetically buying Jillian Michael's Shred DVD and going on a diet.  This is the part where you all talk me out of it.  That's why I have you and I don't ask much, just a trifle;  send bigger pants.

Also, I thought of dvr-ing some yoga or pilates programming on my TV, but I kept scrolling through the whole menu a squillion times last night and I couldn't even find the right channel.  I'm sure out of my wealth of channels to choose from, there's got to be a Fit Living, or Health Network, or Get Skinny, Chubby channel, but I couldn't find it for the life of me.  I kept getting distracted by the Food Network anyway.  And the Cheezits crumbs were messing up the remote.  So, I gave up.

Really, I'm not kidding around here, send bigger pants.


  1. I'm not going to talk you out of it. I start boot camp on Monday (the day after Easter no less) at 5:30am for 5 days a week for 4 weeks. If you lived here, I would have dragged you with me so I could have more friends suffer alongside me; misery loves company. As it is, I dragged another friend who plans on hating me until week 4 when her tight buns make her realize it was all worth it. Oh - did I mention that I have to track what I eat and bring it to class every Wednesday!!! Did I mention that even my dh refused to talk me out of this crazy plan! What kind of person is he anyway?!?

  2. Oh how I love reading your blog!

  3. Eee-heee! You're so silly. Um..........I HAVE the SHRED. I'll start if you do.

  4. I love that you make me laugh. Also...if I weren't pms-ing AND eating Little Ceasar's cheesy bread without remorse...I would totally encourage the diet thing. But as it were...why don't we go buy bigger pants together?


  5. Never mind the bigger pants; you don't need them. Write a book. Let me rephrase that: Write your book. Love, Ma

  6. Bwahahahaha.......I could bring you a bike to ride. Wait a I can't.....all of ours got stolen....

    You're beautiful. You don't need a diet. You have a sense of humor and that is FAR more valuable than a body that looks too skinny anyhow. xoxo