My Grandma calls me fat…

…but that’s ok because I have a critical, Asian grandmother. And the fact that she says it in another language softens the blow (although, the fact that she says it several times in that language and asks me if I completely understand what she’s saying re-invigorates that blow). But rest assured tiny, tiny audience, that I am a healthy weight for my height and age group.

Albeit, that does not mean I’m healthy. I’m uncoordinated and unmotivated to exercise. I did gain a little Dessert-At-Every-Meal-Because-I’m-In-Europe Weight (DAEMBIIE), so I’ve decided to try to think about trying to try to exercise. Plus I have bingo wings.

Bingo wings (adj.): 1) A chubby upper arm 2) when an old lady wins at BINGO and, when she raises her hand in excitement, her arm fat keeps jiggling.
Origin: Evan & Carissa double-team.

young bingo wings.

I want it noted that I’ve always had chubby arms. And it exercising helps me sleep. 

Anyway, last night I went to the Rec an ran on the treadmill for 30 minutes (2 miles, which is a feat for me). And then I did the rower machine thing. I’m not sure what it’s supposed to work out, if I’m doing it right, and how long I should use it—but it’s my favorite. I only use it for 5 minutes just in case I’m doing something horribly wrong.

On a side note: I have Nike tennis shoes and they always give me blisters. I do not recommend them. Those children aren’t laboring like they used to. They were on clearance, other wise I would have gotten a more ethical shoe.

What I ran to: Buddy Holly.

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