so what do you call a male cougar?

Yesterday, at the gym, cause really, where else would I be? I saw something that made me laugh. There was an older guy working out, I say older cause he was my age as opposed to the usual under 30 guys that I’m accustomed to seeing there. It was nice to have something to oogle that was at least in my age range. I guess he was about 45, not bad looking and in relatively good shape. However, as I watched him work out he watched a young 20 something, skinny, toned, cute thing work out. Ha ha, life is funny.

So if a cougar is a woman over 30, what do you call the male version of a cougar?

Yesterday a woman tapped me on the shoulder while I was hoofing it around the track. I had the mp3 on and so I removed the headphones. She said, “you’re doing really well”. Me, “ok, thanks”. Now what did she mean? I was moving really fast, I’ve lost weight, I can put one foot in front of the other without any help? What? I can only assume she saw something good and just had to say it. I learned later that she’s in my weight training class and she’s a minister. Glad I didn’t take the stance that she’s a weirdo and tell her to back off.

As I sit here writing this I can hear the cat making noises. It’s somewhere between a howl and a cry, and it’s usually followed by throwing up. And yes, there he goes, cat spew everywhere. Excuse me, back in a minute……………….

I’m back. I don’t know how he does it but he managed to get it all over himself. I cleaned up the puke and then took a look at him. He had it all up over his face, across his right eye, on his nose and dripping from his whiskers. A pitiful picture he does make. Poor cat, he doesn’t like having his face wiped but he’ll get over it.

And that ends another day in my life. Tomorrow is weight lifting day, which brings another opportunity to oogle young things and dream of yesteryear.

Lucifer

Lucifer is an asshole who feeds on the misery of others.

It was about 2001 that I moved in with Pat. Pat was a religious freak, she loved God and Jesus and she hung religious artifacts all over the flat. Everywhere you looked you were reminded that God is great and Jesus was nailed to a cross like a dog and left to perish. After a run in with me, Pat would run to her room and emerge about an hour later with a look of peace and a smile on her face. I figured she had gone to pray for my soul. Bitch. All she wanted out of life was to get married and have a man take care of her. I have a use for men too, taking care of me wasn’t one of them ‘uses’. Pat and I were incomPATable.

Pat and I didn’t last long, I was ok and she was not. That is enough said but ok, just a little more - I minded my own business and so did Pat, mind my business that is. I lasted 2 months and I was outta there.

It was while I was cohabitating with Pat that I met Lucifer, for the second time. I would tell you about the first time but I can’t remember it. I must have blocked out the details. All I could think about the time was getting away from him, and the rest is all just fuzzy. After that first encounter I immediately phoned my psychic go-to-person, who lives in Newfoundland, and asked her what to do. Her advice was to face him, not to run but to stand my ground and ask him what he wanted. I should say at this point that these meetings took place in the dream world. Having said that, let me explain: this wasn’t a dream or a nightmare that I ‘think’ meant more than just a random dream.

So, that night, when he came a calling, he took the form of an alligator. Pretty funny, a talking alligator, I wasn’t laughing. You can go ahead and laugh if you want to cause the incident is over. Fucking asshole that he is. I have heard it said that the devil takes many forms and that you will recognize him in any form. This is true. Alligator or not, he is immediately recognizable. You just know who he is.

Anyway, this time I stood my ground and I turned and faced him.

He was smiling and he was sly.

“What do you want?”

“You”

“Why?”

“Because of what’s in your mind”

Scared the shit out of me, that answer did. I was going through a hell of a time at work at that point in time and all I could think of all day long was what I would like to do to the assholes I had to deal with. Now being me, I suspect that if I had continued to think this way, I may have made some of my thoughts take form. I fell back to sleep eventually, because I refused to be afraid of him, and the next morning I was forced to evaluate my thinking. My thoughts were so bad that I attracted the attention of the lowest snake that exists. Not something I want to do again.

Lucifer is soul less and evil, he is without remorse. Not someone whose attention you want to attract.

Guard your thoughts, they have a way of taking form and they may attract some unwanted attention.

sit, watch, wait……….

Oh man, I was so tired yesterday that I just wanted the planet to stop so I could get off for a while. That’ll teach me not to get enough sleep. I am such a night owl, I get up so early for the gym and then don’t go to bed early enough. That’s because of my bartending days, when I used to sleep all day and work and party all night. I do miss my younger days sometimes………

Anyway, it’s hotter than hell in this city today. No, I haven’t been to hell, I just like the expression. I have met Lucifer, but that’s a future post.

Oh, the gym yesterday, let me tell you. Adonis or Mini-Me Adonis wasn’t there but the other guy was, I shall call him Snoopy because he wears a ball cap when he works out. Snoopy is so fine, he doesn’t strut or square his shoulders when he walks around after a set, he doesn’t scour the weight room to see who is looking at him. He simply exists. He’s so in shape, lots of shape, nice muscled shape ……………, another 6 months, just another 6 months of the sweaty gym and all that working out and I’ll be ready for the hunt.

I figure he’s about 30, not too young to be cougared. So, until then I sit and watch and wait……….

lazy Sunday & other crap

What to write about on another lazy Sunday that will sound interesting? I’m coming up empty here. So who wants to hear about my week?

This week I’ve spent 7 1/2 hours in the weight room trying to gain some muscle, I can bench press 125 lbs now. I’ve spent 5 hours on the eliptical machine and 4 hours outside walking around the city streets.

I’ve thought of taking up dog walking to make some money while walking the streets, then gave up the idea. The thought of Fido getting run over by a car while I am at the other end of the lease wasn’t appealing.

I’m now $1164 less in debt. I liked that thought.

I need new sneakers and I want a new mp3 player.

I went to the psychic fair and had a guy look at my palm. He told me I have the mark of the witch. I paid $30 to find that out. Self discovery moment here - I have more money than brains.

I brought a friend to Witchypoo for a reading. She’s die hard Catholic, I don’t know how many Hail Mary’s she said before and after the reading but I’m pretty sure God won’t strike her dead.

I’ve spent another $56 on skin care products. Last week two people thought I was 33 years old. I’m actually 43, sometimes I spend my money well.

I’m at my old fat weight again. I got to a great weight and stayed there for about 2 years and then the eating went crazy and I went super morbidly obese. But as of this week I am back to my old fat weight. Yahoo. I dug out old photos of myself. They were taken exactly 10 years apart, one of them has me skinny and the other not. A sad moment but I am a work in progress.

When I get back to skinnyville I’m going to cougar something young and muscled, and ride him till I wear him out. Then I’ll devour him cause that’s what cougars do.

did curiosity really kill the cat?

I feel kinda bad, I haven’t written or read a thing in about 3 days. Such a bad blogger am I. My excuse is that I have been really busy. I spend a lot of my time at the gym. I am either trying to build up muscle in the weight room or trying to get rid of the fat in the cardio room. And the insanity part is that when I have a spare moment I go outside and walk around town to burn off calories. I will have a buff body in 12 months whether my body wants to comply or not. If I have to drag it kicking and screaming to buffness, then I will.

Woman on a mission here people.

I sit sometimes and stare (yes I know I shouldn’t) at overweight people and I wonder, what’s their story? Why are they fat? What led them to this state? This same state that I find myself in, this state that I am trying to get myself out of. I don’t care that a person is fat, they’re still a person, just in larger packaging. If I don’t have to carry their weight around then it’s none of my concern. My issues with weight are my own, they don’t extend to anyone else. Now that I am not overeating and the weight is disappearing and my nightmare is over, I find I pause to wonder about the other overweighters in the world and wonder, Why? How?

Just curious.

meat market

Bars are known as meat markets. I used to work in one of these markets, so I know all about the shopping that goes on there. Until recently I didn’t consider the gym a meat market, just a place to sweat. I have oogled a lot of flesh lately at the gym, and trust me, there are some prime cuts to be oogled. A man, when he puts his mind to it, can create a work of art out of his body.

Still, I go to the gym to sweat and get body beautiful. I’ve never made myself up to go to the gym, never put on a skimpy outfit, wore makeup or made sure that when I bend over the men could see all the way to my belly button. No way. So Sir-ee.

Not Miss Pink. I saw her for the first time today in the gym. She wore black capris workout pants, what looked like ballet slippers on her feet, and a bright pink top. It was one of those muscle back, no shoulders, skin tight pink tops that allows the men to see her ‘girls’ - clearly. Good for her, she picked a good place to be seen, and to shop. Prime cuts I tell you, and Adonis Mini-Me was there today. Oh mother of God, he caught me staring at him again. You know what? I should just sit and stare openly and then he’d get used to it. (and have me thrown out of the gym - so, maybe not).

That pink top wouldn’t have been so bad if she had worn the right bra with it, however……You could see those white straps, no problem. How old was she? Well over 45, long blond hair worn loose and full makeup. Yup, she was shopping.

About 20 years ago, same gym, I picked up a 19 year old body builder. I never knew that the male body could be in such good shape, so many muscles to play with, such fun………………..

Ah, memories of yesteryear.

So, good luck to Pink Top. I hope you get a fresh, young, firm one - at the market.

more than I am

It’s been another lazy Sunday. Another Sunday that I’ve layed around and watched movies with the cat curled up in my arms. I’m always glad when I am appreciated as a soft bed and not just someone who brings home the cat food, shovels out the litter box and cleans up fur ball pukes. So glad to be appreciated.

I watched Bat Man Begins again. That guy is seriously hot. He reminds me of every character I’ve read about in a Harlequin Romance Novel. And I haven’t read one of those in 20 years.

The cats got into a cat fight and I threatened to turn him into a fur hat. Now one of them is whining for food. So glad I have a purpose in life. Speaking of life, I’m going to look into martial arts. I’m going to find out what’s out there, what’s available, and what’s going to work for me. A guy in my office suggested I try Judo before I take on Karate. He teaches Karate and said that it wasn’t the place for a novice. I shall take his advice.

So I will then be a workout goddess, a body builder, a martial arts student and next after that is yoga. In my spare time, if I find any, I will breathe. This should put an end to my boring existance of just a litter box cleaner and puke scrape-er-up-er.

Adonis, mini-me

Yesterday was a tiring day. I slept in and so the cat bit me to wake me up. You know, breakfast, a cat has his priorities. Well he got his breakfast and I dragged my ass to the gym. I spent an hour on the eliptical machine, showered and went to work. After work I returned to the gym and did 2 1/2 hours of weight lifting, cause I’m stupid.

I hate squats. They don’t look good being done by something young, muscled and male, I can only imagine what they look like being done by me. Anyway, I put a 45 lb bar across my shoulders and got on with it.

When I was about halfway through my routine, in walked Adonis Mini-Me. He was similiar to yesterdays Adonis, just a little shorter. I estimate this guy was around 5′ 10″, as I eyed him from behind my barbells. And again - a work of art. Oh the shoulders on this guy. Only problem with today was, every time I looked his way, he caught me. It’s like we were on the same ’staring schedule’ or something. It was weird and he probably thinks I’m a dirty old woman.

Black hair, needs a shave, high cheek bones, beautiful chisled features, deep set dark eyes, and the shoulders, and the big arms, and he walked around in a muscle shirt, and ……..he was fine.

So, tired I was after todays workout. But that’s it, I made it through my plan for the week: cardio in the morning and weight lifting in the afternoon on Mon, Wed & Fri, then Tue & Thu is cardio in the morning and evening. I WILL BE BUFF, I WILL BE BUFF, I WILL BE BUFF - OR DEAD BY AUTUMN. Either one works for me.

enter, the god

I have made the observation, about my life, that I am now one of those people who ‘live at the gym’. I am there first thing in the morning and then again in the afternoon. Yesterday I got in an hour of cardio and then at 2pm I went back and spent two hours on weight lifting.

A woman on a mission here people, I must be thin and yet buff before I reach my year 50. Now that I’m not making myself sickly with milk or wheat anymore, plus I’m trying to make up for lost time. All those years, like 43 of them, of being dead on my feet and less motivated than a slug. All those years of being fat and invisible, they’re over. Here I am finally. I’m mildly pissed that I woke up at age 43, but you take what you’re given and you work with it.

So I spend my time at the gym trying to turn back the clock and put off the old folks home for just a few years. I need to grab myself a slice of life before the time comes when I put on a cardigan, sit in the rocking chair and take up knitting. I don’t want to go out chasing young men who are half my age, I just want to have some life. Gone is the tired old, uninterested me and in it’s place is the me that lives at the gym and works to sculpt this body into something that functions like a machine.

Speaking of young and buff, I was in the weight room yesterday and in walked an Adonis. He was so beautiful, over six feet easily. He was about 24 and built like a brick shit house. The guy didn’t walk in with any attitude, that ‘look-at-me’ was noticably absent. He didn’t even wear a muscle shirt, he was dressed in sweats. But his ’presence’ in the room was felt, he was so tall and so very much in shape. He had to remove the sweatshirt for a couple of exercises, but then put it right back on. That body was so very well sculpted, such an Adonis. It was almost as if he was shy about his looks. He caught me staring at him, I felt like a dirty old woman, but it couldn’t be helped, he was so beautiful. He made a nice change of scenery from the old farts that have been trying my nerves lately.  

the old man and the sea

An excellent book by Ernest Hemingway, I read it and at the very young age of 12, I got it. He fought with a big fish and he won. He fought the elements and the scavengers who would take his prize, and he still won.

Well Hemingway had a fish story but I have an Old Man And The Gym story. They don’t compare except that he grossed me out just like rotten fish would.

I watched him go from one machine to another without spraying down or wipeing any of them. I was cleaning them as I needed them and then on the last machine - I snapped. I picked up a spray bottle and a rag and I marched right up to him as he sat, working out, and I dropped it in front of him. I made sure I brushed his arm when I did, just to ensure he saw me. Just to  make sure that he got the message. I had the mp3 player on, earphones in and couldn’t hear the comment he made to me as I moved away. I know he said something because he looked my way and I could see his lips move.

Fuck em