Hold the Whipped Cream

… spending the day with your family, parked by a pool and switching between shade and sun (the sun seems so much brighter when there’s no smog below it). And earlier your dad says the Lord’s Prayer in church extra loud in your ear as a “you-should-re-believe-in-Jesus” nudge. And you have to keep from giggling (and you did).

… going shopping with an old friend and her two daughters— who are a little wild but are the cutest little girls ever. And they help you pick out your outfits and listen to you when you give them opinions on theirs. And they make you feel 6 feet tall.

… wasting away on a beach for the day with even older friends. And feeling like you picked up right where you left off, even though it’d been two years since you saw them. And a lot’s changed— but a lot’s stayed the same, too.

So I’m flying back to L.A. with a little more of a tan/sunburn, probably an extra pound somewhere, and a huge smile on my face. Because I’ve come home 4 times since I’ve moved away… but never have I had so much fun that I’ve been a little sad to get on a plane.

Until next time, Tampa.

Sometimes good ideas go unappreciated.

Forget the farting iPhone gabber on the neighboring treadmill. Forget the girl who played percussion on her bare breasts. Yesterday’s gem topped them all— and then some.

As I walked into the locker room, I almost trampled over someone. Not because I wasn’t paying attention, but because she was huddled in a ball on the floor… reading her Bible aloud. I listened to Story Time with Jesus just long enough to hear it was about murderers. That was enough for me to finish tossing my things into a locker and high-tail it out of there.

When I came back from cardio to put my iPod away before meeting with Kacia, she was still there. It appeared she was in her post-reading meditation period, as she had balled herself up even more and was rocking herself silently.

I would’ve asked her if she was okay… if she didn’t scare the living daylights out of me.

In all probability, she probably put a hex on me. My hair’s going to fall out. I’m going to lose my teeth. Or worse… I’m going to somehow get permanently stuck in Tampa this weekend.

It wasn’t so bad. I definitely like running way more, but it beats the Stairmaster, which makes me walk funny after. I did intervals at level 10 and felt quite the burn.

AND I bench-pressed for the first time since freshman year of high school in P.E. (take THAT, Mrs. Deters)! We won’t talk about the fact that it was only 30 lbs…

Buy your tickets now, the gun show’s gonna sell out fast.

It feels really good to wake up and see that, despite the amount you ate and drank over the weekend (hello second helpings of mac ‘n cheese and twin Saturday-Sunday hangovers), you end up weighing 0.4 pounds less than you did on Friday.

Also.. I skipped the gym Saturday-Monday. Oops. Double session with Kacia this week! Imma be hurtinnn’.