Hi-ya! [karate chop] Take that, germs!

Our weekend was mostly spent putzing around his house. We watched a few movies (The Village, Southpark, and Terminal), our Tivo�ed stuff (House, but no Lost this week), and a couple episodes of Law and Order (dum-dum!) while sacked out on the couch while our white blood cells were working OT on all the paramecium in our systems.

Things accomplished: doing some grocery shopping, finding an awesome all-you-can-eat sushi place, and parking his rental car in the garage without hitting a wall, blocking the garage door from closing, or blocking the garage entrance door from opening.

Back story: A couple weeks ago someone moved her SUV into the side if Benito�s stopped car. It�s now in the shop for un-denting, and her insurance company is paying for a rental. For $2 more per day, he upgraded and got one of those pimp rides: a Dodge Magnum wagon. We got checked out all weekend, everywhere we went. But it was damn near impossible to park in the limited space of his garage. Only three more days of hardcore pimpin� before it�s back to the normal, cute Benito car.

On Saturday we tried to find the DPS office to update our driver�s licenses. We followed some instructions I got from a friend to no avail. After calling information for their address, we found out that only suburban offices seem to be open on the weekends.

And they all close at noon.

BAH!

So Benito�s got this joke about me never cooking for him. I cook every night of the week for myself (save the occasional I�m-having-chips-and-cereal-for-dinner days), and I�ve rounded up dinner for us only a few times ever.

I once heated up some tofu for me as he heated up chicken for him as I wisked up a packet of instant kung pao sauce. Twice I made one of those flavored rice packets. Once I made homemade dough that resulted in some seriously good pizza. I�ve made some pasta with peanut sauce. I also made some spicy faux chicken with broccoli casserole. And then this weekend I opened up a Boboli crust, combined a can of tomato sauce with a can of tomato paste and a bunch of random Italian-like seasonings, and topped it off with (as Benito seems to think) too many mushrooms.

In a good amount over a year of seeing him weekly, that�s all I�ve got. Three actual meals and a little reheating.

But really. Suuuuushiiiiis. All you can eat for $11 a person. Who am I to say no?

At least I know he�s around because of my sparkling personality and not because I remind him of his wonderful, can-cook-like-crazy mama.

Lately I�ve been fighting the urge to get a gym membership.

I have a perfectly adequate gym in my condo building that I pay for each month through my association fees. There are two treadmills, two elliptical machines, two bikes, all the free weights I would ever need, and a bunch of weight machines I hardly ever go near.

I usually run on the treadmill for about 45 minutes, lift free weights for either my arms or my legs, and then ride the elevator up for an entire 30 seconds to get home.

Despite the convenience, having a TV and a stereo and fans to blow right on you, having all of the stuff essential to my working out, I still want classes.

I just checked gyms around town, and most close pretty early. In addition, I know they�ll run me at least $50 per month, even after my corporate discount.

Meh.

UPDATE: I just talked with Benito, and he�s like WHY NOT? Quit being so practical. Mix it up. Go in the mornings. So I called one place and have a tour on Friday after work.

Kickboxing. Bootcamp. Hardbody group strength training. Step jam. Pilates ball. Yoga. Aerobics and toning classes.

It�s mostly good stuff, minus the step jam class. I have no interest in marching up and down a plastic block while swinging my arms like an orangutan.

Marathon training will be in full swing soon enough, and running four days a week and cross-training one more is going to make hitting up any kickboxing class difficult. As I said, we�ll see...

In what freaked-out alternative universe does someone walk around in 20-degree weather without a hat or gloves, insisting that it feels fine in just a jacket?

Um, yeah. Guilty.

I don�t know if my skin is thicker or what, but the cold weather isn�t killing me this year. Granted, it�s not been 7 degrees for any sustainable amount of time; but high 20s and low 30s is nothing to scoff at either.

I�m now wondering if I were to go to Texas this summer if I�d shrivel like a raisin in their stronger sun. Did I lose my ability to sit in hot weather without complaints for the cold weather immunity?

Time to wrap up another boring entry. I�m really just trying to do the best I can with the limited time I�ve got.

Amusing anecdotes aside for a while, hang in there with me. �