Snowy Bliss rambles…
Caution potential stalkers of middle-aged, penniless lesbian bloggers…YES that is my dog and he is rather possessive of me. If you get past him, I have two other shepherds. However if you are a really attractive, wealthy stalker -just come armed with a plastic bag, shake it…the dogs will scatter. Dust busters are equally, if not more affective. If you’re not attractive, still living with your ex, or have an entire closet limited to only sensible shoes (or any birkenstocks) the dogs bite.
It’s snowing in Michigan again — beautiful outside and falling fast. I enjoyed a leisurely day of sleeping in, then I went to the gym (my goal is to lose 10-15 pounds). Did 45 minutes of cardio and a core/leg routine. Then I did more cardio as there was a really cute young lesbian running around the track – so of course I needed to stalk her (oops I also needed to go around the track). I was almost keeping up with her, great for a middle aged woman but I was WALKING and she was running. I wanted to tease her “hey you run like a straight girl” but I refrained, she does need a running lesson. Cute though, cute. At least she was exercising – unlike gay men, lesbians don’t seem to do a lot of exercising. No ladies golf is not a sport, nor is billiards, nor is bowling…those are activities. Watching the WNBA is not a sport either – shouting, throwing back another budweiser is not the same as a bicep curl.
“Where did all the tomboys go…long time passing” (move over Melissa – I’m going to start songwriting. Sure it’s derivative but it’s a start).
Nuf said -indulgent, indulgent nonsense. Then I came home and made a quiche, had some rosemary foccachia bread and a cup of tea.
Despite being the snarky windbag that I am — friends have invited me to the MSU/Boston game. I have already had to confess to not knowing what kind of game that is. YES I am looking for my dyke card and I promise to turn it in immediately.
BUT I can do 300 sit ups and 10 real push ups (none of the on the knees girly business) even whilst clapping in between each one.
Sorry I am a horrid mixture of hideously self absorbed, vain and insecure.
So given all of those pushups, and bench pressing 85 lbs. I think I get to keep the dyke card or maybe I just get a gay card (As it is revealed I’m a homosexual trapped in a woman’s body).
The other day when I walked into the post office, a gay man that works there was very excited to see me. “Hello”! “Hello” I said…his face dropped about four stories when he realized I was not a gay man.
C. must have given me a great haircut…I was worried it was too dyke-y but turns out it’s just “too gay”.