Quick update for my millions of minions. In Kona. Gorgeous. Starbucks for my legal speed before a workout, but gee, it's nice to have some time to myself. So I'm lingering.
Mean Girls, the movie. Major score for Tina Fey. Awesome script. No surprise there. The big surprise: Lindsay Lohan? Like eight years ago? I say this with all sincerity and nary a hint of sarcasm or snark: TOTES ADORBS. Like, the most perfect rendition of the cute, guileless SoCal teen girl since Alicia Silverstone in that remake of Emma. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I haz a sad for LiLo.
Established: a beautiful tropical island paradise simply isn't enough without good surf. I don't demand much. 3-5' is perfect...maybe 4-6' if I really want to get wild. But the waves this week have been dead flat, nonexistent. Normally, you'd see me chomping at the bit to get to the beach. But not this vacay. Hence why I'm here at the Death Star, on terra firm. I will have to plan for more in the future.
Damn, but clothes sizes vary wildly! Maybe obvious to those who are more conscious of such matters, but until recently, I figured a large is a large is a large. Now I put on an XL (because you can't contain these growing muscles...and let's be honest...this expanding midsection), and one fits loosely, while the next hugs the curves just right, and the next hugs a bit too tight for comfort. And because of my growth this past year, I've had to donate generously to Goodwill. Oh well.
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