Captain's log:
Thoughts that go through my head when I'm jumping on my trampoline.
"This is surprisingly fun."
"Holy Jesus, my shadow looks fat."
"I wonder if a neighbor can see me and has a trampoline fetish and is now planning to kill me." (Sorry, I've seen too many horror films and newscasts.)
"I wonder if I'll notice a difference in a week."
"God, I really hate [insert name of former life partner]."
And last but not least. . .
"Wow, a trampoline surface is actually perfect for stretching, yoga poses and self-massage." No, you sickos, not that kind of self-massage. Because that would just set the creepy neighbor tramp-o-phile off.
That's it for now. Oh yeah, and if you expect me to post a "before" picture, the answer is no. But you can bet my hot ass will post an after picture if this bouncing my way to fitness works.
"A little bit of this. A little bit of that. A pot, a pan, a broom, a hat. . ."—Anatevka, "Fiddler on the Roof." This is a blog about everything and nothing. A little parenting, a little humor, some poetry, news, essays, a lot of music. I don't want to waste your time, just send positive vibes into the blogosphere. Oh, yeah, my name is Sarah Torribio. Enough about me, how are you?
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