How color coordination might get someone punched in the face

First off, I want to let you know I’m aware of my aggressive post titles. The thing is? They’re gonna STAY that way. I’m writing. It’s one of my few healthy emotional outlets. Although analyzing the above title makes me think maybe I should look into jujitsu, or karate. I just know I want to learn how to roundhouse kick. Tell me you don’t wanna learn to do that! Just for that one dude who always talks to you slimy on the walk home from the train station? That one time he gets just a wee bit too sleazy with you, off comes your jacket and bag and say, “Guess what, man? You know what you get today? A ROUNDHOUSE KICK.” He won’t see it coming! It’ll be just like the movies, at least until the cops come and book you with aggravated assault or attempted murder, but whatever, off topic…

At this point, it’s no secret that I’m not a fan of exercise. I refuse to think anything called a ‘burn’ could be good for you, zumba is nothing like salsa, and how many crunches do I really need with half my body fat laying on top of my stomach? It’s ludicrous. But seeing as how my metabolism checked out last year and left me with the bill, and even a glass of OJ now turns up in three pounds of hip fat, I’ve gotta kick it up a notch. I go to Lucille Roberts, because it’s cheap enough for my budget…But also cheap enough that if I don’t go, I have no guilt about skipping it. It’s win/win for me.

I’d taken an unwritten “It’s the holidays, who are you kidding” sabbatical from LR, but decided today I was going back with a vengeance. I wrapped up tight and headed out to 9:30 kickboxing, expecting lots of punching and kicking. I had sentimental memories of past (slightly ghetto) classes with instructors shouting, “Imagine your man sayin’ he ain’t got his side of the RENT! PUNCH! PUNCH!” Or scissoring on our backs with our legs, “What happens when your man is gettin’ on YO LAAASST NERVE? Scissor close, open, close!”

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Heavy is the head that wears the crown…from Burger King

Oh heeey…I didn’t know you shopped here too, look it that! And at the same time I do, what are the chances? That’s like, crazy…heh.

OK, look, I’m NOT avoiding you. I think you’re awesome, you’re SO smart, really funny, super-cute, and I’m totally into you.  And I’m totally working on something for you now, it’s just that you know, being laid off for six months (SIX MONTHS?!) has me running around like a mad woman, spinning many plates, and exploring what I want my next chapter to be. (It won’t be as lush as Oprah’s, so don’t get too excited.) But I think I’ll be taking more chances. I mean, I’ve played it safe and look where it took me–absolutely nowhere. Full disclosure, it’s probably taken me several steps backward. But I feel like I’m making up for it pretty quickly.

Soooo, if you can be ok for with me not texting you as much, and maybe not being as available on email, I’ll be back and you’ll be here and maybe I’ll have a boom box and you’ll be at your window and I’ll have football tickets in my teeth, and we’ll have a blast! Are you down? I’m down! Yeah. Cool. Oh, and if you could stop calling and like, breathing on the phone? I mean, it’s fine, but I know it’s you, and why waste your minutes? Oh no, I don’t think it’s creepy, it’s just, with the caller ID and everything…

Great! See you soon.

P.S. I have no crown. I was thinking of a birthday party I had at BK where everyone got crowns & were perfectly happy with them. I want to find my crown & be happy with it.