This is how I am spending my evening.
This is how I'll be spending tomorrow evening.
(Seriously. DVD ordered and everything. Jillian will have a great time whooping my wobbly ass into shape.)
My theory is, screw the fact that I'm carrying extra poundage, but let's at least make an effort to make it look like attractive poundage. I'm bored of having my belly rest on my crotch when I sit down.
In keeping with January's YOR, I'm still posting a pic a day on flickr. It's...a little unsettling, taking a pic of myself every day and staring at it trying to decide if I like it. Which of course, I don't, because I have a spotty chin, my eyebrows are fucked, and I often look stoned. Or, as someone else pointed out, worried.
Rabbit in headlights springs to mind.
But hey, it means I get my camera out. In last night's shoot I got my boobs out. But no, they don't make an appearance, because you know, I'm trying to keep it tasteful.
This will not last long.
I've also booked me a ticket to a photography show at the NEC, which is really surreal, especially as I booked myself as a photographer.
As in -
Occupation: Photographer (wtf?)
Company: Jay Mountford Photography (say what now?)
(I'm STILL working on my site. WordPress opens a can of Whoop-Ass on me every time I look at it.)
Unfortunately, I am not Hot (February YOR). What I am, is full of cold. So much FOF, I may have dribbled a little snot on Isaac's leg, and in Noah's hair today. You know when it's just so watery, and you don't move quick enough to catch it? It's kind of like that. I hate that. It's messy. So I kind of end up sitting around with a tissue wedged up my nose.
On reflection, that's definitely not hot.
BUT. I have managed to wear fucking sexy bras and various thongs/French knickers for the last week-ish. Which of course has leaded to no action at all, because all I want to do is sleep. But you know, there's been plenty of heavy breathing and stuff.
...while I sleep.
That's not to say, D does stuff to me while I sleep.
Because he doesn't.
Look, you know what I mean.
Maybe I should just start working on March YOR, and let Jillian get on with a little ass-whoopin'. That's hot, right?