I Be Workin' On My Fitness

Wooo...Day one at the gym. Boy, do I have a long way to go. Getting started is always the hardest part, especially for a fat girl pushing 30. I know, I know...I shouldn't refer to myself as the "fat girl" but the reality of the situation is I am extremely overweight. Denying the problem is what got me this far down the pudgy road. So, now I'm facing the fat girl in the mirror and dragging her fat ass to the gym. I didn't get this way overnight and it's not going to change overnight. There's a long, grueling journey ahead of me, but I am up to the challenge. See you on the eliptical!

Father's Day

One of my fondest memories as a child was having breakfast with my Papa. That's my father, for those who don't know me. Legend has it, when my mom was pregnant, Papa would talk to her belly, reffering to himself as such. Once I was born and reached the age of talking, he tried to get me to say 'Daddy'. I refused. I guess I didn't know who 'Daddy' was. Finally, he tried getting me to say 'Papa.' I repeated it immediately. He's been Papa to me and pretty much everyone who's ever known him since.

Papa worked swing shift when I was little. My mom worked during the day, so I stayed with him in the until it was time for him to go to work. Some mornings, I'm sure we had breakfast at home. Microwave scrambled eggs were his specialty and my favorite :) But the breakfasts I remember were either doughnut holes and chocolate milk from Burke's Bakery in Constitution Square or pancakes and sausage at the McDonald's on the hill in Danville.

Regardless of which culinary masterpiece or location we chose, the thing I remember most about those breakfasts was the time we spent together. Though I was just a little kid, we would sit and talk about whatever popped into my toddler mind. He didn't care I was babbling about my great-grandfather's ferrets or one of my Little Golden Books. He just wanted to spend time with me.

As I got older and even now, it doesn't matter what we do, Papa still just loves spending time with me, talking about whatever pops into my mind. Though we don't get as much face time, with me living in Georgia, I rarely go a day without talking to him - or my Mama, for that matter.

I love him so much and am very proud to call him my Papa. Happy Father's Day, Papa. you're the best.

S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y Night!

Ahhh...the Bay City Rollers. Gotta love 'em.

As if I don't spend enough time utilizing social media, here I go, starting a blog. Honestly, I don't have a theme or anything truly important to say. I do have, however, this overwhelming urge to organize my thoughts and observations and post them for others to read and comment. I'm not striving for literary perfection or journalistic stardom. I often just run across information I find interesting and feel the need to express my opinions or analyze certain aspects. A semi-intellectual brain dump, if you will. I may also include my thoughts on music & movies.

One way or another, at least all this stuff will be out here and not rattling around my head!