yogging

I have finally discovered a good use for this frigid artic north weather we are most often uncerimoniously subjected to. Jogging. Normally when I engage in strenuous activities that make me sweat I get far too overheated and then want to give up. Now I still want to give up just because jogging mostly sucks, but strangely enough I feel like I want to give up less. By the time I am finished and am arriving back at my house (10 minutes after leaving my house), I am a nice temperature. And if I find a way to ignore the stabbing pain in my chest and abdomen, and the lack of oxygen in my lungs, I figure I will eventually begin to somewhat tolerate jogging in the winter. Jogging in the summer is a entirely different thing altogether. The only way I can figure out how to get around the overheating issue is to jog naked. Yeah, exactly...the solution seems far too easy. I guess I still have awhile to think about it.

Someone once told me you feel something called a joggers high after jogging. The only high I feel is attributed to the fact that I am usually about to pass out due to the lack of oxygen going to my brain. Frankly smoking something seems easier.

Jenna

We are soo bad at this

We are terribe at keeping this thing updated! But, since I have homework to procrastinate from doing, finding something to blog about seems rather appealing. Back in the days of University in Lethbridge, it was much easier to procrastinate from homework. There were always people that wanted to play Rook or go to a movie. If Liane was not home then Jenna and I would think of some way to PUNK Liane's room. Like the time that we stuffed everything into balloons or when we placed a hundred post-it-notes on every available surface. I am sure that Liane remembers those times with just as much fondness. I think that since going back to University I have created a schedule of cleaning my room that correlates quite accuratley with the due dates of all my major assignments and exams.

Hmm... only 5 minutes have passed. This is hard. There has got to be better things to do to procrastinate. I need some ideas.

A.W.

just a spoon full of sugar...

As usual, Anna Horgus is right. It has been far too long since I shared my story with the peoples. Sadly, my story is rather short and uneventful. I will spare you all from my many "epic" tales of exam-writing and employment. It is my desire to bring words of great cheer and joy instead. Unfortunately, I cannot think of any at this time as my head is full of sinus fluid and might, at any given moment, explode and spray little bits of jenna cerebrum and cerebellum everywhere. As you might already have guessed, I am ill. Unlike my dear friend anna, I will not be attempting any courageous feats such as 'tire changing' or 'dance class' in the near future. Instead I will remain a prisoner of my spacious, comfortable loft, that is, at least for the next 24 hours. And oh, what a long 24 hours it will be. There is not even a television or good old fashioned game of twister in the vicinity.
I am still quite contagious so any gifts, flowers, money, soft, furry animals, and/or sympathy notes may be placed at the bottom of my staircase. I have positioned a little bell on the third stair from the bottom that people may ring to inform me that they have left me something. I do not have any masks or gloves available at this time so I advise gift-bearers not to linger. Although, I will leave a scheduler at the bottom of the stairs next to the bell so that my fan...I mean, friends, may request to spend time with me later on in the week when I not so close to death's door. Time slots are limited and will go fast so come early and bring the biggest gift.

Jenna

Man Skills

Today was a markable day. I added to my list of skills, a man skill. My friend Liane came to pick me up to go out for coffee and just before we left she noticed that the back tire on the passenger's side was flat. While she was looking for the phone number for Roadside assistance, I worked on getting the lugnuts off the tire. I had one left by the time she found it. So she didnt call. She hoisted the jack and I put on the donut. This may be presumptuous, but for one afternoon I was her hero. When you read this Liane: "I can be your hero baby..." Play this song in your head. You know the one.


Today Tire changing, tuesday dancing, thursday...... I may bake something.



Anna