Confessions of a Forearm Flexer

It's Sunday evening, I'm watching Return of the Jedi and flexing my forearms like a mad woman.

I managed to keep my obsessive forearm flexing to myself for many years. It's an urge that can be satisfied quickly and discretely. A simple fling back and forth of the wrist is all it takes. Or, for an extra deep stretch, I'll just extend my arm out straight and curl my fist inward for a firm three seconds.

No one has ever really noticed it - until now.

Yep, Andy is on to me. He pointed out my forearm flexing a while back and gets enormous pleasure from impersonating me. When he notices me doing it, he immediately starts flapping his wrists and moving his face muscles up and down like crazy (apparently I sometimes do an eye-roll/face stretch at the same time as flexing my forearms).

In the spirit of confessing, here are a few other things I'm willing to admit to on this 21st July 2013. As Usher would croon, these are my confessions:

1. Return of the Jedi is mostly terrible and I HATE the ewoks.
2. 50% of the time I prefer powdered Parmesan cheese to the freshly grated variety.
3. I'm off diet coke (if I announce it here publicly, it will keep me strong).
4. I like golf.
5. The only thing better than a night out with friends is a night spent alone with a reality TV show and some pretzels.

In other news, Seattle is only about a month away! Let the countdown begin!

Not only will it be wonderful to watch Max/Natalie and Jody/Anton get married (reminds me, gotta send back the RSVP cards), but it will also be wonderful to sit outside on the deck and eat fudgesicles in the K-town sunshine. Not to mention salted almonds, giant Nash's carrots and gut brot.

Until next time,

Margaret

P.S. To all the Brits in the audience wondering 'what is a fudgesicle?' - my heart aches for you.

Status Update

Oh man, I have been la-zy when it comes to blogging. Lay to the zee. But it's only because I've been 'working' so much! Andy and I somehow got ourselves a job building a website for an Indian restaurant. It's finished now, but the process probably took about 3 years off my life.

Things with the bowl cut are going well, thanks for asking. I was hoping to only get one more trim before I go to Seattle in August, but two days ago I woke up with a mullet. It's not the actual mullet that I'm worried about - it's the fact that people might think I've intentionally grown it to be a hipster. That, I couldn't cope with. I've booked an appointment for another 40 POUND haircut next week.

But enough about me - here's an update on Andy. He's been working on an exciting project.  It's a spin-off of his tutoring business. I won't reveal what it is yet, but stay tuned. Also, here's a photo I took after making him pose like a Real Housewife (except with a cricket ball instead of fruit):

 

Have you noticed that Facebook now asks you if you'd like to tag people in photos that you have nothing to do with? Well, I've been doing it!!! The other day my sister Anna posted a photo (a 'mobile upload') of her at our friend Jody's bachelorette weekend. Even though I am thousands of miles away, Facebook encouraged me to tag them in the photo. And tag I did. 

Since, unlike Anna and Jody, most people on my Facebook are people I have only met a couple times but have long since forgotten, I find this new feature incredibly upsetting. I really have trouble resisting the urge to tag people I barely know. As I scroll through my newsfeed, Facebook's screaming at me 'Would you like to tag her?', 'Would you like to tag him?' - and I feel compelled to do it! But will Facebook then tell the person that I, Margaret Kay, was the tagger? 

I am fairly confident that those last two paragraphs made no sense. But holla if you feel me. 

Love,

Margaret