Still commenting!

I haven't been around in over a month, and people are still commenting.  I wub joo guys.
 
Some stream of conciousness stuff...
 
I'm happy with myself, untill I see unflattering pictures.  Then it does two things.  Shatters my fragile self esteem, and motivates me to work out even more.  All of a sudden, the lazy pilates, swimming the occasional lap, meandering walks, and meager dumbells I've been halfheartedly doing doesn't seem so effective.  I just ordered two workout videos, power yoga, and fatburning pilates.  I just wish I could work off the face fat.  Tight body.  Fat fucking face.  Ah well, all I can do about that is continue eating right, and hope it starts melting off.  Though, I have noticed in recent pictures, I have got some seriously nice legs.  I must wear shorts and short skirts more often.  Bag over my head, and a miniskirt.  Accentuate the positive, etc.
 
More:  My son has thousands of dollars worth of toys, in his room.  Literally.  When the TV's off limits (which it is, a good part of each day) he resorts to making mud outside, and playing in that, legos, playing with his shitty dollar store army guys (you know what kind, the teeny green plastic jobbers, that come in bags of 28474272037, and hurt like a bitch to step on), and markers and paper, or some combination of the above.  Or books.  He's *just* reading, so he'll grab a book off his shelf, and randomly identify words, till he can piece the story together.  It's funny, and sad at the same time.  Sad, because looking back, "Santa" didn't need to bust the bank, to bring him the 1400 miles of Hot Wheels tracks, and all the accoutrements.  Santa didn't have to buy him Leap Pad, Imagination Desk, this electronic thing, that electronic thing.  It makes me proud.  It makes me poor.  I feel dumb.