An old picture taken possibly when I was seven or eight years old, wearing a traditional Filipino costume for a performance. It was one of those school festivals where we had to dance in front of audiences. Every year during February, we had a week-long school festival. Those were fun times.
My sisters tease me about how I look so quiet and so shy and so innocent back in the day. A facade, they say.
I got all confused with the numbering. So yesterday was 46 and today’s 47. You see, Wednesdays are my recovery days. Today is my last Legs and Back routine. Next week signifies week 4 of Phase 2. And I’m on to phase 3. Yay me.
So are there changes in my physique? Erm, let’s just say if you see me right now, you’d never know I’ve been sweating like a pig during odd hours of the day. Still, I’ve seen improvements; Heck, I’m proud of the improvements. I’m just glad I haven’t given up. Yet, anyhow.
I have less than six months to reach my goal. Sigh. After phase 3, I’m still deciding on which program I’ll be using. But I’m leaning on P90x again. Possibly the Classic version, except the plyometrics frighten me so. And three weight training days per week seems too high for my fitness level. Maybe I’ll stick to Lean again.
Darn. Since living here in Houston, I keep missing out on all the fun at home. My paternal grandparents celebrated their 70th anniversary, complete with renewing of vows and a fun reception.
Here are the sisters. The middle one on the left and the youngest on the right. Aren’t they pwetty?
And this is the middle sister with mom.
I couldn’t find a decent picture of my dad, fitting with the swing set theme. He’s not exactly a camera person.
I am very much tempted to type in capital letters but I won’t. Perhaps, only certain words. And your welcome.
A few days ago, I was kinda happy that my December plans are taking shape. Today, it’s marred by a huge fucking problem. I mean, ‘HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIT!!!’ totally describes my feelings for the moment. Believe me, I had my share of cursing earlier. Lots of it. In English and in my native tongue. It’s so satisfying to curse in Tagalog. And thank god, nobody cut me off the road earlier, or else there would’ve been road rage.
To vent, I even sent my mom a text message with mild profanities. She, of course, as calm as ever simply text back with, “Wag ka init ulo. Talagang ganun.”, which literally means, ‘Don’t be a hot-head. It’s really like that.’ Pretty much like Calm down and take it easy. I rarely show my temper, but when I do, I explode.
I’m not sure how this is going to pan out. But I’m stringing out a solution. It’ll probably be okay, but the solution means me wasting a fucking grand.
Edit: In case your wondering, I’m in a hissy fit because I haven’t seen my parents and sisters for four years. The December plans was to go back to Manila.
Whoa. The Ex, otherwise known as The Boy, has been calling, texting, and emailing. Is trouble brewing? Do I owe him money?
And the boring saga continues…
