Boy meets thigh

i was my butt was my thighs were the cellulite on the back of my thighs was introduced to andrew wolff at the gym awhile ago.

it was one of the more, shall we say, undignified introductions i have ever had the misfortune to experience. to keep the mortification at bay, i shall force myself to think of it as that all-purpose palliative -- a learning experience.

so this is what i learned.

lesson # 1: shorts from the '80s should remain in the '80s.

two straight weeks of no sunshine = no laundry out to dry

no laundry = dwindling pool of clothes (gym clothes dwindle particularly quickly)

no more gym clothes = mom's pink nike pekpek shorts from the '80s

and when i say pekpek, i mean pekpek. i was actually extra fidgety wearing them around the boxing trainers, but i pek-peked pooh-poohed my discomfort away by reasoning that i'd worn them at least once before, and who cares about scruffy old ex-boxers anyway?

so i thought (almost) nothing of agreeing to a pre-workout stretching session with my trainer, jeff. i love getting stretched -- you just lie there like a log while they do all this physical therapy stuff. i was lying on my belly, face flat on the floor, shorts riding up my (thunder) thighs when one of the other trainers exclaimed, "oy! si andrew wolff!" the other trainers chorused, "pare! andrew! kamusta na?" as a very, very large shadow slowly loomed over me.

crap.

at least, i reasoned as male chitchat ensued, jeff will have the good sense not to introduce me while i'm lying here like a tub of giniling.

lesson # 2: men are dense.

i gave all the non-verbal clues i could in such a position. i kept my face turned away. i clipped my arms tightly to my sides. i clamped my thighs to prevent further riding up of said shorts. i may even have given a warning wiggle or fidget. all to no avail.

"siya nga pala, andrew, papakilala ko sa 'yo si deepa. tiga-gma din siya. deepa, si andrew."

he could have just said, "siya nga pala andrew, hita ni deepa."

i have never taken so long to turn my head in my life. i would rather he have met my toes (they're nice and slim) or my split ends (i have none).

but there was no escaping it. i turned my head. with what dignity i could muster with my face purple and pressed to the floor and my thighs staring him in the face, i smiled and said hi.

lesson # 3: when in doubt, hide.

quicker than you can say "cellulite cream", i whipped my head back and away from him, and cringed. i mean, i'm not a fan, but i didn't want a fine specimen like him to associate my face with those thighs, resplendent with niknik bites and bedimpled with cellulite. (come to think of it, i literally dimpled at him.)

god forbid i ever, ever bump into him again, and my face be replaced in a split second in his memory by quivering, white, jiggly thighs. as we took our places in the ring, i worked extra hard to make my punches as strong as humanly possible, so that he could at least have something else to associate with me. "you're the girl with the kick-ass punches" sounds way better than "you're the girl with the, uh, ass."

lesson # 4: when able, ogle.
(or, select types of men are entitled to as much silicone as they please)

as i said, i'm not a fan. after seeing him in person, i find him a bit of a calamari (as defined by j). but you don't have to be a fan of someone to ogle, right? you can just be a fan of the male species in general? because, as i also said earlier, he is quite a fine specimen. one that boxes shirtless, and wears the biggest size glove, at that.

jeff and i made chismis while said specimen was off crunching granola. "ang laki ng katawan ano? naging girlfriend n'yan si ethel, tapos si gwen," jeff said conspiratorially. "ngayon naman si keanna. dala n'ya nga dito kahapon eh."

hmm. the man does like his silicone, innit? but then, i figured as i ogled all through his ab workout, any man who can bounce a medicine ball off his abs (even the obliques!) can have as much silicone as he damn well pleases.

see? i am so much smarter now.

One

one ring to rule them all

yep, the header is new. and it's still part of my green and pink sari theme. the ring was one of the many components of the outfit that inspired the (not so) new look of this blog.

i love this ring -- more so since it's usually so hard for me to find one that's small enough for my fingers. now if only i could remember where i put it...

one hour... just one

aside from the usual idle hankerings for clothes, shoes, books (money, power, fame) and whatnot, i've found myself wishing for just one extra hour each day. i don't know how it would work (would it be a 25-hour day for everyone or just for me? could i stick the extra hour wherever i wanted? do i just want the extra hour to apply on workdays?), but it's been a nice fantasy.

if i had an extra hour a day, i would...

do yoga. uncle sujit gave me a slim volume about yoga, and i've been bumbling my way through it on and off since january. i just about gave it up since i started boxing, which i am beginning to believe was the beginning of the end of what little flexibility i'd previously achieved. i managed to call it an early worknight on monday, and it felt great to do a full forty-five minutes of yoga when i got home. wish i could do it more often.

box more often (or longer). i don't have the time to box every day (three times a week at most, and never consecutively), and i often have to dash back to work. i find myself wishing for that extra hour when i'm trying to squeeze into a pair of jeans that fit me only days ago.

be more conscientious with singing. vocalize more often, and practice more pieces for acs' imminent takeover of europe (sana). more often than i'm happy about, i have to content myself with putting on my study mp3s as background music while i work, and hope that i learn them by osmosis.

write. not for tv. tv can stuff it. that one extra hour would be for me, and me alone.

sleep more. i intentionally set my alarm earlier than necessary just so i enjoy the exquisite pleasure of hitting the snooze button and going back to sleep. my idea of bliss is getting to hit "snooze" at least five times and not have to wildly rampage through the rest of my morning rituals just to make up for it. this cold snap is making me crave that extra hour of sleep even more.

what would you do with an extra hour in your day?

More threes

from toni. because it’s a monday, it’s rainy outside, and i feel like procrastinating. (i’m editing out the ones that are giving me meme-vu.)

three people who make me laugh: my corny boyfriend. chris ong. rufa mae.

three things i love: sleeping. dark chocolate. ukay-ukay.

three things i hate: people who can’t keep their voices down in small, enclosed public spaces (like buses and elevators). bopis. food with fatty textures, like lychee and yes, fat.

three things on my desk (at work): “spunk & bite: a writer’s guide to punchier, more 'engaging language & style.” a marilyn monroe mug someone gave me in fifth grade. matrioshka dolls from prague.

three things i’m doing right now: procrastinating. typing. blinking.

three things i want to do before i die: go to a really fancy dress-up event and be gawked at and photographed. own a diamond and south sea pearls. learn to cook.

three things i can do: write. sing. pick up things with my toes.

three ways to describe my personality: game. suplada. multifaceted (haha, cop-out).

three things people might not know about me: i always pick something by madonna on videoke nights. i cut my eyelashes as a kid. i once wanted to be a fashion designer.

three things i think you should listen to: the ateneo chamber singers. (shameless plug). the amazing rina. apocalyptica.

three things i don’t think you should listen to ever: people who tell who you just how you should dress. and those who tell you that you can't do something (ala lavinia of bituing walang ningning fame -- "you'll ne-he-vehrrr make it..."). oh, and sleazebags who say things like "don't worry, i won't put it in." haha.

three of my absolute favorite foods: godiva truffles/ritter sport praline (make that chocolate, period). microwave-melted queso de bola, as introduced to me by justine in college. spam with ketchup and rice.

three things i’d like to learn: thai and indian cooking. how to get a job at discovery. photography.

three beverages i drink regularly: water. coffee. c2 apple iced tea.

three shows i watched when i was a child: perfect strangers. the charmings. silverhawks.

three people i tag to do this meme: you, you, and you. both of you!