Dearest Kindle,

I must admit to being a little shy and apprehensive when we first met. I would ask myself "Do I really need a Kindle in my life to be happy? Or should I learn to love myself first?" Those first few tentative weeks were full of "getting to know you" intrigue and excitement about what could be. I was amazed the first day you delved deep in your soul to show me the top 100 FREE books. That week was a turning point in our relationship, and we would stay up late at night reveling in murder mysteries and tales of magic. I realized my deep feelings for you when I couldn't imagine my future without you. But was it too much too soon? I was scaring myself with the admission!
But that was when you hooked me with a new series, and the joy grew.
The day we had our first fight was a memorable one. They say the first fight in a relationship can ruin it. I wanted you to stay in near-mint condition, and you wanted your face to be cracked. Such a sad day. Thank goodness we were able to mend our troubled relationship with the help of a warranty and some much needed time away.
Now we are inseparable! I ignore the ones who are jealous of us and want to tear us apart (BJ) Those glares and subtle "kindle hiding" aren't lost on me. Because the day came when I realized I wouldn't be the same without you. It was the day I looked in my archived content and noticed the number there.
36 books!
Could it really be? I have been changed and can't walk away from this unscathed any longer.
You have changed me forever with your never-ending supply of books.

I love you Kindle
Love,
ME

Stupid exercise...

I used to be very fit. Being in track and two soccer teams forced me to be in prime condition in my teen years. Since then, having a desk job hasn't helped me maintain very well.
Being pregnant was impossibly hard to know how to "gain healthy weight". Which for my body apparently meant "save everything!". It took me until Kenley was 6 months to be back to pre-pregnancy weight. Hip size is another issue. How can you be the same weight but have such impossibly different measurements??
On top of that is my complete sugar addiction.
And I don't say that lightly. When I say "addiction" what I really mean is: I could eat a candy bar for breakfast and skittles, gummy frogs, and diet pepsi for the rest of the day. Which amazingly doesn't make me sick.
My favorite Easter candy has got to be Cadburry eggs. Yes, those giant creme ones.
The other day Fresh Market had a sale and I purchased five. Thinking that I had any sort of self control.
Silly me.
Later that day, I was surprised I wasn't hungry, when I realized to my disgust that I had eaten FOUR of them! Not my finest.
So to recap that day: Banana and cheerios for breakfast, FOUR Cadburry Eggs for lunch/dinner
It's amazing I've survived this long.

So back to exercising.... I realized that I had to pump up my physical activity if I wanted my weird body to snap back into shape. So I took up my old hobby and decided to run again.
I've never been one of those lucky petite girls. I've always been the tough, contact sports kind of girl. And I like to attribute my extra "thickness" to being kick-ass.
My stomach is still strange, since being pregnant, and every now and then I feel like I might jar something loose. Frightening.
I still feel like I'm punishing myself by running, and force myself to run mile after mile all while chanting "swimsuit season" which terrifies me enough to run a few extra laps.
I thought I might make myself feel better and buy proper (cute) running attire. I bought some running pants that are more of a flare leg that help me look less like a weeble as I run along, but they tend to collect more earth than I would like.
These miles have only recently been getting easier, which is really good since I'm starting to get incredibly bored with it. Do people really get a "runner's high"?? And of course, BJ has to come along and run faster an longer than me his first time out in months.
I'm starting to notice more tone and energy, but over all it seems I'm only exercising to keep my sugar habit. Sigh.

Money-Bags and Gold-Diggers

I am hopelessly addicted to TV and love to have it on to keep me occupied or just as background noise. I cant stand to have a quiet house, if its not the TV I have my ipod playing while I flit about the house cleaning and doing homework.

I feel better about using my ipod since a lot of the time I'm listening to audio books. (thats better right? gotta keep these things balanced!) But my TV addiction has exposed me to the trashy-dirty-self indulgent shows I cant turn away from.

(I even gave Dr. Phil and the Trya show a chance, but even this addict cant stand those big mouth, self-righteous hot air balloons. Who gave them a microphone in the first place???)

But one show I started watching and now I can't seem to tear my eyes away from the carnage- The millionaire matchmaker. Which I lovingly refer to as "Money-bags amd Gold-diggers".

I really don't understand how this crude, intrusive, surly woman is so successful. Especially since I haven't seen an episode yet where the matched-up couple actually sticks.

But STILL, i'm amazed at the amount of men and women that line up and stand through her abusive scrutiny!

I guess I shouldn't be surprised what people with no self-respect are willing to do for money.

I joke with BJ that my next marriage will be for money, or maybe I should just have a rich baby-daddy.

But really, anyone that snags themselves a millionaire will earn every penny-Ms. Patti has proven that to me!