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I haven’t posted since playing the role of Easter Bunny for Miss M over the weekend. What a poisoned chalice that turned out to be. I’d made the decision to go easy on the chocolate this year, so I just got her four little Lindt chocolate bunnies, and made a deal to buy a DVD she wanted instead of an egg from me. Congratulating myself for being so clever, I left the quartet of bunnies on her pillow. In the morning, she was beside herself with excitement after finding the “golden rabbits”, but then went to see what else the Easter Bunny had left for her. I kicked myself for expecting a child to get the whole “quality not quantity” idea, and next year will just buy more crap chocolate. Oddly, she was also quite upset by not getting an actual egg. I tried telling her how I’d been given Elegant Rabbits when I was little, but to my “suprise” she didn’t care.

It’s been an uneventful week otherwise, with Miss M spending most of her time with Michael, which left me more time for insane training, which has now started revolving around running - disturbing, to say the least. Insane training has also entailed insane eating, because since Monday, I haven’t been able to stop eating. On Wednesday morning, I found myself getting up before 5am to cook food to eat after working out and in between clients. Interestingly, it was really good, thus proving I can cook while still asleep. I’m averaging seven meals a day, which is great (they’re only little, I swear), but super hard to manage. This weekend I’m going to make soup so I can just grab frozen containers and know it’s done.

So there you go. I’m going to refrain from detailing my exact distance and times for running, but I’ve improved heaps from the first couple of times. In a perverted way I almost enjoyed it. Almost. The only downside is heavy, heavy legs, which make riding very hard, but since my bike needs a major service, it might not just be the heavy legs making it tough.
Today I’m loving: My girl being home properly for a few days.

After yesterday’s post about disappointment, today I get to talk about romantic triumph! Yes, romantic in the extreme, when this afternoon, I was walking with Miss M along Victoria Street to get dumplings from our Camy replacement. Because it was a beautiful day, I’d dressed in a pair of hipsters and a black singlet which tends to roll up a little, especially if I do anything, like walk, for instance. I’d also put on some red lipstick, a must for noodle soup.

As we were strolling, and singing the theme song from Ginger in a two part ‘backing and main singer’ way, I noticed a man walking closely behind us. Victoria Street is one of my favorite places, but it’s pretty seedy, and when you’re singing and holding your wallet in full view of everyone, it pays to be aware of a strange man less than a full pace behind you. A couple of moments after I noticed him, he nearly tripped over a concrete man hole cover - mainly, I realised, because he was checking out my butt. So I wrote off “mugging” as a possible reason for being followed.

When he made a remark about how dangerous the cover was, I replied in a friendly but non-committal manner. I noticed him staring at the portion of skin between my jeans and singlet, then he moved a little closer, and said quietly (I can only assume it was so Miss M didn’t hear him) “I love your stomach, you have the most beautiful belly button”. I wasn’t really sure what the accepted reply was, so I just went with “Thank you”. Miss M said loudly “what did he just say to you, Mummy?”, as I pushed her into the dumpling shop.

It was an odd mixture of sweet compliment, and scary freakishness, as there was a definitely a weird vibe about the guy. However, it’s good to see all the training’s paying off, when a complete stranger nearly breaks their neck looking at the result of all the deadlifts you’ve been doing.

On a completely unrelated subject, this afternoon we bought a totem tennis set, and took a total trip back to my childhood, when every time I visited my grandparents, there would be deadly totem tennis games with my much older (and more insane) uncles. Every game held the possibility of being horrendously hurt by the ball, which would’ve been hit with all the power my opponent could muster, and if I tried to step in to play a shot, I always did it with my eyes tightly shut, because of course that helps a lot when you’re trying to avoid getting hit.

We took our totem tennis set down by the river, and tried to ignore the smell of horses while belting the crap out of the ball. Poor Mr Dog found it difficult to control the urge to rip the ball off it’s string, then tried to steal the bats while they were still attached to our wrists. He got the idea after a while, and found himself a stick to destroy instead. Miss M got hit a couple of times, and I fondly recalled the dull thud of a tennis ball striking my arm, or face, if I was really unlucky … and now it’s the turn of a whole new generation!

Today I’m loving: red lipstick, for no particular reason at all

In my current zen state, which leaves me unconcerned about stupid real estate agents and disputes about parking, i-Pods falling inconveniently under stairs, and various other things, it’s been a while since I’ve felt a true sense of disappointment. Today, however, I did. It involves another person, in whom I may or may not be interested. Although the very mention means it’s obviously the former.

It’s strange, because it’s been a long time since I’ve been in a proper interested phase (well, there was the monster, but I wasn’t really interested, if you know what I mean). When I was younger all that seemed to be required was a short skirt, a few beers, and you didn’t really need to think about anything else. Now, as a grown up (or at least someone masquerading as one), it’s a lot more complicated.

There’s a positive difference between then and now though, because in those days if something romantic had gone wrong it would have meant at least a week of depression, listening to The Cure and Joy Division (possibly also Stiv Bators), and boring my girlfriends stupid with tales of woe. Now, I sigh under my breath and think “just get on with it” - Josh’s favorite expression (just skirting under the copyright of the Nike slogan), and think about downloading some tracks by The Pixies.

At least it’s Easter, so consolation chocolate can’t be too far away …

Today I’m loving: insane training regimes seem to run in my family

My arms are super heavy after another day of weight training, spurred on by my not quite so hated new i-Pod. It earned it’s keep today, so maybe I could learn to love it. Alright, I admit it, I already love it.

A fairly uneventful day, sans Miss M, who is staying with Michael until Thursday, which is kind of sad, kind of good. I’m so used to seeing her every day it feels truly odd not to have her manic presence around except briefly on the phone. Today she’d just come home from the swimming pool and was more interested in having a warm shower than talking, which makes complete sense.

I’m about to head back into work, and am looking forward to 9.15pm, when I will be dropping into bed, hopefully sleeping soundly until 5.05am tomorrow.

Today I’m loving: any song that helps me grit my teeth and get to fifteen reps when I only think I can do ten

This morning my i-Pod died. It was sad, mostly because I really wanted to use it while I was working out today, but also because it doesn’t actually belong to me, but rather to Rent-a-Mac, who probably don’t take too kindly to a sweaty girl shoving an i-Pod down the back of her pants while doing squats. Well, there was nowhere else to put it, Mr Rent-a-Mac, I’d claim in my defense. And I’m sure legal action would continue from there.

Anyway, because I’m on this weight lifting kick at the moment, and reacquainting myself with running, my little musical buddy has assumed even more importance in my life, so I took myself off to Kmart, and bought an i-Pod shuffle. One of the tiniest things I’ve ever seen, but super affordable and totally perfect for the gym. It all went downhill from there.

The fabulously helpful man in Kmart gave me a little sheet of problems common to i-Pods. So when I got home, I looked at “my” old one, and thought I should maybe try to fix it. Of course, it worked perfectly. Unlike the other thousand times I’d tried to switch it on today. That’s okay, I thought, now I’ve got one I don’t need to shove down the back of my pants while doing squats. That’s a good thing. So I tried to open the box to charge it up, and load it with songs.

And I couldn’t open the box. I tried leveraging it with scissors, then a screwdriver. Then I finally went back to the scissors and cut it open, all the while hoping I wouldn’t have to return it for any reason and explain why I’m too much of a dufus to work out how to open a box. My computer is upstairs, so I switched on my coffee machine, and carried the shuffle and the dock upstairs to start charging it while the water heated. Which was fine until I dropped the shuffle, it fell through the gap in my stairs and into the myriad of canvasses, and whatever else lives in that God-forsaken hell hole down there. The usual me would have cracked it, but this strange new calm me that seems to be around a bit lately smiled in a tight kind of way, grabbed a torch and started hauling canvasses out. I found it within twenty minutes, but I was really starting to wonder if I’d just have to write it off as gone.

So in the few minutes left before I had to teach yoga around the corner, I plugged the dock into my computer, but there was no sign of charging, or anything that was supposed to happen. Around now the new calm me left the building, and the old one (who quite frankly I feel a little more comfortable with) was back, baby. I semi-calmly, semi furiously got onto the support site, and reset, pressed buttons, blah blah - nothing worked. Finally I plugged it into my old one’s charger, and that worked perfectly. Then I taught yoga, which was perfect timing.

So now, it’s happily charging, with eleven hours worth of running and working out music on it, ready to push me to achieve greater heights of physical fitness. Or drive me insane, whichever comes first.

Today I’m loving: cortisone eyedrops (It’s better not to ask why!)