tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45765434152445060042024-03-13T16:38:34.665-04:00There's always something to smile aboutThese are some things that make me smile. Maybe they'll make you smile too.Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-61443693362628792732010-01-05T09:49:00.002-05:002010-01-05T09:51:24.782-05:00That Ache<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I love that "I haven't worked out in two weeks and my body is killing me after doing weights last night" ache. So much as it limits my mobility, it really means my body was working. Mmmouch.</span></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-6693958264201800622009-11-13T12:41:00.002-05:002009-11-13T12:48:48.888-05:00Sprinkles, please<div align="center"> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Usually an "Old Fashioned Plain" girl, today I opted for a sprinkle doughnut. </span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It was a good choice.</span> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403646555569483842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 138px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 129px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/Sv2b6Zx7cEI/AAAAAAAAAO0/n7q1Qvvif08/s200/sprinkled%2520donuts.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-69710573124333021362009-10-27T10:57:00.003-04:002009-10-27T10:58:49.096-04:00Desk oatmeal<div align="center"> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Five minutes of warm, sweet, cinnamonny desk oatmeal.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397294283265796114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/SucKjfZN6BI/AAAAAAAAAOs/qgCGfe9oQ3U/s200/1194292189_oatmeal.jpg" border="0" /></span></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-41341420219454578772009-10-13T14:50:00.003-04:002009-10-13T14:56:28.729-04:00The Byward Market<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I went to the Byward Market in Ottawa this weekend and had a fantastic time! There is something special about the Byward Market...it's not as bohemian or pretentious as Kensington, not as crowded as St. Lawrence and much more 'homey' than the Queen Victoria in Melbourne. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and I was able to snap a picture of these cute little painted pumpkins.</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392159713273346818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/StTMsLnUewI/AAAAAAAAAOk/wyXpgROwubQ/s200/pumpkins.jpg" border="0" /></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-11153046947098845782009-09-29T10:00:00.002-04:002009-09-29T10:07:36.311-04:00Schadenfreude<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There's this huge pimp-looking guy that rides a stupid electric bike to work each morning. It's dumb. It's half motorcycle, half scooter...it's just ridiculous. He always cuts me off and never signals. He rarely obeys the rules of the road. It's very frustrating.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Today, he decided that instead of riding on the road, he was going to ride on the sidewalk. Keep in mind that this guy was probably going at least around 20km/hr - this is dangerous to have on the sidewalk!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">About a minute into his ride, a police officer popped out from around the corner of the building and stopped this guy. I didn't see what happened, but this guy totally got his ass handed to him and I hope -HOPE- he got a ticket. Stupid guy.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Schadenfreude really makes me smile sometimes.</span> </div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-72120704366171125762009-09-22T16:10:00.001-04:002009-09-22T16:12:01.610-04:00Colour-coding<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">A label maker, a stack of documents and a new box of bright file folders. I really get off on colour-coding.</span> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384386989825795042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/SrkvcIXNI-I/AAAAAAAAAOc/H4ZK0PnZNgc/s200/01117213L.jpg" border="0" /></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-4921319205530123162009-09-21T09:49:00.002-04:002009-09-21T10:08:10.069-04:00Fall time!<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Cool weather, crisp air, leaves changing and baking; fall is here! I love it when the house smells like spicy orange-date loaves or roasting vegetables, and I can't get enough of long walks with warm coffee, sunshine and a cool bite to the air. I love love LOVE the fall!</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383922108161837266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/SreIodNbyNI/AAAAAAAAAN8/vgzsD-qTrCQ/s200/autumn.jpg" border="0" /></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-19623716073306183792009-09-11T09:08:00.002-04:002009-09-11T09:16:25.255-04:00The Milk program<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I was listening to the radio the other morning and there was a commercial advertising for a milk program at elementary schools. It reminded me of being in elementary school and going every lunch to grab myself a milk. I wasn't a juice girl, I wasn't a pop girl; </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I was a 2%, white milk child. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Since I bought milk every day, I had my name entered in (every day) to win "Milk" prizes and won a bunch of them. I have a notebook with cows dancing on the front of it, another notebook with cow spots, a wallet with someone surfing on a glass of milk...I won a ton of things from Milk.</span> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380197836017513250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 191px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/SqpNbSUmMyI/AAAAAAAAAN0/d3qHrdSg6zo/s200/milk.gif" border="0" /></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-19810445200647018572009-09-09T10:05:00.002-04:002009-09-09T10:45:00.728-04:00Rustle rustle<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">In Toronto you don't fall asleep to the sound of crickets; you fall asleep to the sound of old Chinese women rustling through your recycling bin, looking for bottles to return to the Beer Store.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I hear they make good cash.</span></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-24046969731028014162009-09-08T09:34:00.003-04:002009-09-08T09:42:51.329-04:00Fresh flowers on the kitchen table<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Coming downstairs to find freshly picked wildflowers on the kitchen table. A small bouquet of oranges, reds and yellows left by roommate Liz is a great start to the week.</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379091368432860098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/SqZfGZXPe8I/AAAAAAAAANs/dOpD0GscYoY/s200/donkey-orchid-12-donkey-orchid-647x1000.jpg" border="0" /></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-37963829598673656972009-09-03T09:19:00.003-04:002009-09-03T09:26:04.159-04:00Slow rides<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I realized last night that biking can be very enjoyable and relaxing when you're not zooming around trying to get somewhere quickly. I tend to try and get places fastfastfast when I'm on my bike, but if I take my time and enjoy the ride I can see a lot more and don't get all sweaty and gross at the end of it. Imagine that.</span> </div><div align="center"> </div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-49727341086565781752009-08-31T09:43:00.003-04:002009-08-31T09:57:50.841-04:00I am the Biggest Loser<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We've been doing a "Biggest Loser" competition at my workplace and today was our final weigh-in. Everyone threw $100 in the pot and had a goal to lose 7% of their body weight between June 1st and Aug 31st. I was worried I wasn't going to make it and even got up extra early today to go to the gym and workout/sweat my ass off in the sauna. </span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Turns out I made it (and then some!) Yeah! That means I'm down 17lbs in three months. Bam. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">TrainerJamie says that I'm working out a lot and should be losing more weight than I have been. I'm guessing this means calorie restriction and tightening up on my diet. Ugh. Goal is to lose another 15 by end of October.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Anyways, I suppose this post was a tad more "personal" than most days...but not losing $100 really made me smile.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376126626957657378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/SpvWrutUhSI/AAAAAAAAANk/W2wtQwq9jX4/s200/biggest-loser-season-1.jpg" border="0" /></span></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-4807682539304793912009-08-27T08:48:00.002-04:002009-08-27T08:57:21.462-04:00Today<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Today I smell good, I look good, the bike ride into work was good and I even had 10 minutes to spare so I grabbed a coffee from Tim's; it's sunny and cool, I got a few cheques last night so I can pay a bill or two, got to bed at 10:15pm so I feel nice and rested...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Not even 9am and today frigging RULES.</span></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-66139464322583127502009-08-25T12:44:00.004-04:002009-08-25T12:48:04.533-04:00Little Avocado Roll<div align="center"> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I told my trainer that I was going to have sushi for dinner. Here’s the conversation:<br /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>“TrainerJamie: Okay, so what will you eat?<br />Jenny: Brown rice, avocado rolls, veggies…no raw fish.<br />TrainerJamie: Avocado? Be careful. There’s a lot of fat in them. Good </em></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>fat, but still fat.<br />Jenny: Good fat! Like me!<br />TrainerJamie: Yes, just like you. You’re my little avocado roll.”</em><br /><br />He called me his little avocado roll. Isn’t he the cutest?! He’s single, ladies…</span> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373944039307657250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/SpQVoaHCwCI/AAAAAAAAANU/JxrQkE35XcI/s200/avo.bmp" border="0" />Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-1168226978937714682009-08-21T11:32:00.005-04:002009-08-21T11:37:29.155-04:00Good friends<div align="center"> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">You've had four too many drinks and can hardly stand up. Good friends hold your hand, get you water and take you home. Thanks, friends. You make me smile between advil and visits to the bathroom.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372441544439344642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 147px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/So6_HsjbrgI/AAAAAAAAANM/PlZ-S3AMtQo/s200/artistic-comic-japanese2.jpg" border="0" /></span></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-3486736266620974082009-08-20T11:12:00.006-04:002009-08-20T11:25:40.546-04:00Fate, conincidence...whatever<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Call it whatever you want - "fate", "coincidence" or "walking the blueprint of life" - but when you run into someone in a place you'd never think to see them, it always makes my stomach vibrate. Earlier this week I ran into an old friend in my building at work. As it turns out, she is on a temp assignment for the entire month just six floors below me. This has happened once before with another friend that was in the building for a week. It totally floors me.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">If I hadn't left work five minutes late and chatted with my co-worker for two minutes in the lobby, I never would have walked by her and we could have gone the whole month not knowing that we were working so closely together. Think of all the wasted lunch dates and after-work drinks!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This happens all the time, it seems. You run into someone you haven't seen in ages who just happens to be at that exact same spot at the exact same time. Impressive for a city so huge. Even more impressive when it's in another part of the country or overseas. </span></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I don't know what it means or why it happens, but I do know that it makes me giddy whenever it does. And hey, now I have a lunch partner for the month, which makes me even happier!</span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372066153968931202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 157px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/So1ptGE3kYI/AAAAAAAAANE/2bb2wJoyjC0/s200/Om_Explosion.jpg" border="0" />Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-75450661311488967602009-08-19T13:45:00.002-04:002009-08-19T13:51:36.739-04:00The buddy system<div align="center"> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Walking by a group of day camp children that are using the buddy system. Bright shirts, floppy hats and sunscreen happily assault my senses.</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371733780675130162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/Sow7abEbczI/AAAAAAAAAM8/oUNr1Fiyl84/s200/1204-kidswalking.jpg" border="0" /></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-31057113426544419252009-08-17T11:27:00.002-04:002009-08-17T11:35:59.810-04:00Catlove<div align="center"> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">When cats do that "rub my mouth on you and curl around your legs" thing. Even when they're hairless, it's still awesome.</span><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370956787656590834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 196px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/Sol4veg-hfI/AAAAAAAAAMs/nZGDker3twg/s200/hairless.jpg" border="0" />Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-41931249353205163432009-08-12T10:36:00.004-04:002009-08-12T11:02:58.826-04:00When great things happen to my friends<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The older I am, the more excited I get for my friends when good things happen to them. Weddings, babies, trips, promotions, new houses...I genuinely share in their excitement and love to see them happy.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...even though I'm sure I get a tiny bit jealous every now and then.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369092652337046962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/SoLZUhS1pbI/AAAAAAAAAMk/PwCl805Opzw/s200/amy+and+john.jpg" border="0" /></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-24522934141536884262009-08-11T10:50:00.003-04:002009-08-11T10:54:53.461-04:00Friendly and creative homeless people<div align="center"> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There are a ton of homeless people in the city, and the creative, quirky and friendly ones always make me smile. A guy outside my workplace last night had a sign that said “Obama wants change…so do I!”; the man that I see various places around town dressed in red, holding a sign under his bushy beard that says “The sleigh broke down”; the guy that sits outside of Lee’s Palace who I tried to give a granola bar to once and he refused – he was lactose intolerant and the bar was coated in chocolate. There were two guys in my old neighbourhood that loved reading so I always gave them my old books. They would joke around with me and brag about how fast they finished the latest Dan Brown or Mark Billingham I gave them. There’s a man who holds the door for people at Tim Horton’s who always comments on my rosy cheeks and says I have a beautiful glow.<br />I wouldn’t necessarily call these people optimists, but it’s always nice to see people who are so down and out be polite, friendly and have a sense of humour.</span> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368719429226983730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/SoGF4E3P8TI/AAAAAAAAAMc/hRBvxkZjvdQ/s200/13112398_e59397e7fc.jpg" border="0" />Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-72733743426582140912009-08-10T15:30:00.002-04:002009-08-10T15:35:28.004-04:00My first email scam<div align="center"> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"I write you with pain and saddness and tears in my eyes. You do not know me but..."</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I finally got one of those "My father died and left me $6 billion in an account, but I can't access it because I live in Nigeria" email scams. It makes me feel in the loop and like I should be on Dateline. Just another small, ridiculous thing that made me laugh.</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368420824503438866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/SoB2S_lWThI/AAAAAAAAAMU/l7BhKljtaQc/s200/dtl_thompson_gang_040926.300w.jpg" border="0" /></div>Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-28757285442954959012009-08-07T09:05:00.003-04:002009-08-07T09:11:15.297-04:00Fridays<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Sunny, warm, coffee-filled Fridays.</span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367208593203342738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/Snwnx2FPLZI/AAAAAAAAAMM/wRzBM3Hprog/s200/Juvenile-The-goat-teaches-dancing-1000x727.jpg" border="0" />Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-63154229980043465782009-08-06T13:35:00.003-04:002009-08-06T14:01:00.638-04:00That feeling you get after a great workout<div align="center"> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">You drag your feet to the gym, dreading every step and wishing you could just eat a cheesy pizza instead. Eventually, though, you get there and start working out. Amazingly your body says "YEAH!" and goes with it and before you know it you're doing one of the hardest workouts of your life, pushing yourself more and more. Walking out of the gym your cheeks are red, your head is high and your body is totally buzzing. You can feel the blood running through your veins and the air in your lungs, and even your eyes seem to see a bit brighter. It's one of the few times you won't crave junk, but instead want veggies and a healthy protein (well, at least it's that way for me) and maybe some chocolate milk for dessert (c'mon, I can't always be a health-nut). That high stays with you for a good long time after you work out and it kinda makes all the sweat, money and denial of pizza worth it.</span></div><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366912248007416194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 170px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/SnsaQSMs2YI/AAAAAAAAAME/sICKNuBSZE8/s200/Medical-Anatomical-heart-1700s1.jpg" border="0" />Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-77201747589150602322009-08-05T14:32:00.003-04:002009-08-05T14:42:11.720-04:00Great co-workers<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As a receptionist, about 75% of the office walks by me multiple times a day. Over my time here I have given them nicknames, have inside jokes with most of them, know about their lives and they know about mine. It's always nice to see someone walk in, give them a genuine smile and get one in return. Sometimes words aren't even spoken; I get numerous high-fives and fist-pumps each day without every saying anything else to the person. I'm pretty lucky to have such great co-workers.</span><br /></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366551621416099058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/SnnSRDdNnPI/AAAAAAAAAL8/dYVplyVaLCc/s200/coworkers.jpg" border="0" />Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4576543415244506004.post-84984046889518143972009-08-04T09:39:00.003-04:002009-08-04T10:01:36.921-04:00A hot-streak in the crossword puzzle<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">You're on the train, casually doing the crossword at the back of the free newspaper. You get a few words here and there, but you're no professional crossworder by any means. Suddenly an answer pops into your head and you write it down...which leads to you getting another answer and another and another! You're on a roll! A total hot-streak, filling squares in with vigour and pride. You get a giddy sense of excitement knowing that you filled in those words bam-bam-bam, and take a look around to see if anyone was watching. No one looks at you, but you thought you saw a lady's eyes turn away quickly when you brought your head up. You're one huge step closer to finishing the puzzle and look even harder for another </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">hot-streak to appear.</span> </div><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366107832639855138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 195px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VqGr0qoQULg/Sng-pJbwmiI/AAAAAAAAAL0/BIyhxHQqwbw/s200/crossword.gif" border="0" />Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13409301791663824908noreply@blogger.com0