Pilates: Crucify the Fat!

I've decided to leap head-first into the realm of the inappropriate with that title.

I had Pilates to day, and it kicked my ass. I think I grabbed 3-pound weights instead of 2-pound weights, which doesn't seem like that big of a deal, but after the intermediate ab series and the leg series, my body was screaming that I'd forsaken it. I also got applauded for returning to class (I'd been lost in doctor appointments and therapy for the past few weeks).

I should add that a few nights ago I prayed, for the first time in a while. It kind of boiled down to having no one else to talk to, but it wasn't a last resort. I made my peace with God. And I cried a little.

The home front is still tense: My mom and dad aren't speaking yet. No word on how all that will pan out, but I still talk to them both. My dad is more concerned with my health lately.

I get to have Pap smears every three months now. I can't wait. Serioualy, what's my gyno's obsession with my uterus and it's surround parts? I mean, I get that that's his job, but, really, it's odd.

This just in: I'm intelligent. At least, according to my therapist I am. She commented on my using humor as a defense mechanism and said that was a sign of intelligence, as it is often considered the highest level of defense. Neat!

And you thought my "your mom" jokes were just inappropriate. Your mom's in MENSA! OK, I'm done now. And sorry for the sporadic blogging - I'm Internetless at the moment.