Halloween, My Mama, and a Pumpkin

The other day, I was in the kitchen, having a deep conversation with a Japanese kabocha pumpkin.

While wielding a butcher knife.

Thinking about how good the kabocha would taste roasted.

When all of a sudden.

My mama burst into the kitchen and said, "You scare me when you hold a knife. Let me do it."

And I was like, "Okay, if you want me to not do work, I'm okay with that."

"Also, why am I scary when I hold a knife?"

My mom didn't answer me.

But I have a sneaking suspicion it has to do with how big of a klutz I am.

Happy Halloween, everyone!

How I Exercise

Since I talked about working out really hard in my last post, I thought I'd write a little something about how I actually exercise. Anyone can do it! I promise.

Some days, I will feel the sudden, overwhelming urge to run and usually will oblige myself because it happens so very (very) rarely and I need to take advantage of the surprising need to be unlazy.

When one of those days happens, this is oftentimes, what goes down:

Stumble out of bed.

Feel full of energy.

Hatch a harebrained idea:

Head to the bathroom to wash up.

Look in the mirror.

Wonder how an extinct animal came to nest on my head.

Try to fix it.

It takes awhile. I need a haircut.

Wash up and change into sweats.

Eat breakfast.

Which goes like this:

1. Hmmm, what shall I have?
2. Bacon and eggs!
3. Ohh, I made cupcakes last night.
4. This leftover pizza will go bad if I don't eat it right now. Like, RIGHT NOW.

And before I know it, I've indulged a little too much.

Look at that food belly.

And, all I want to do is:

I don't think I can run anymore.

I really am my mother's daughter.

Bruises or How I Workout Really Hard (Not)

Last night, after getting home, I changed into my red basketball shorts and noticed all these bruises on my legs.

Especially around my right knee.

My first thought was, "How did I get so many bruises without realizing it? Ohmygod, I'm dying. Am I dying? How did I not feel myself getting these bruises? Ohmygod, is it my nerves? Did I damage my nerves? I'm gonna die, aren't I?"

Then I realized I was being a hypochondriac and forced myself to calm down, and think rationally.

So my second thought was, "Wow, I must be working out really hard! Look at all this evidence. I'm such a rockstar."

Then I proceeded to press my bruises to see how much they hurt because I'm a masochist.

And, guess what? They didn't hurt. At all.

I thought it was some kind of super power or something and was feeling pretty proud.

Then I noticed that my fingers were blue too.

Strange.

And I pondered that puzzle for half a second.

Until I remembered something.

I was wearing my newish jeans yesterday.

So.

It's not that I worked out really hard, it's that I'm too cheap to buy jeans that are more than $20 and this cheapness dyed my legs blue.

I guess you really do get what you pay for.

My cheap jeans made me think I was dying.

Also, I accidentally gave myself silver hooves for feet.

Oops.

I think that pretty much sums up my life.