Lacey Kaye

Romance with Color


Archive for the ‘Losing the Author Spread’ Category

My, what big milestones you have

Today, I became an XS. That’s right - I bought my first ever XS anything. I actually bought three XSs: two tank tops and a running skirt. And to help you understand what a milestone that is, when I first went and bought an official running outfit, I bought the pants, not the shorts. The shorts! Scary! Nope, I got the yoga pants and matching long-sleeved jacket. The jacket, especially, smoothed out the unsightly bulges created by the super-tight tank.

The tank has been getting looser every week, and Seattle finally decided to warm up enough that I’m dying out there in my pants. But wear shorts? Never! To even think! Ack!

I had another problem. I’m for Florida and then San Francisco and then Vegas, and I have no summer gear. In fact, I own thirty suits and almost nothing else. (I’ve been slowly increasing my going-out wardrobe, but it’s hard because I’m so picky.) Today I made the “mistake” of walking into Target, telling myself I would just look. Just a peek…it couldn’t hurt, right?

Well, Target has TONS of shorts right now. And I own exactly 0 pairs of shorts. Make that owned. I start my foray amid the racks of board shorts, which have long, tube-like legs, and then go for the narrower yet still long Bermuda shorts. I stay far, far away from the hot pants. The kind I used to wear back in high school. The kind Jessica Simpson has pretty much cornered the market on.

Let’s backtrack for a moment, shall we? When I went to college, I gave all my short shorts to my brother’s girlfriend. That was almost 10 years ago. I’ve missed them ever since, but seriously. When was I ever going to wear them again? They look like doll clothes, and I don’t even own any long shorts. I’m pants all the way. But just before I started working out last  year, I mean really, really hard, I realized something. I realized two things, actually. The first was that *I’d* given her those shorts. Me. As an adult. As in, today I look at her and I think, “No way.” But at some point, I was that thin. Because I gave her those shorts she looked so great in at Christmas. Cue motivation alert.

The other thing I realized, as I’ve said somewhere here before, is that the guys at work think the picture of my mom on my desk is totally hot. They also usually think it’s me in high school. Hehehehe. So I realized, wait a minute. If I could lose the weight, I could potentially look as cute as my mom.

Which brings me back to today. To date, I’ve lost almost 30lbs. It’s been a slow loss, but it’s come with life changes, so I’m happy to be patient. Even if it’s slow, it’s entertaining*, and that’s skipping all the mind-bending shenanigans that have gone on in my head while coming to grips with the changes in my self-esteem. Although, mind-bending shenanigans are probably what prompted me to try on the tiny shorts in the first place.

* pause here to say I have thoughts on this; expect a blog post about it on Thursday at manuscriptmavens.com

Ok, it’s not entirely true mind-bending shenanigans melted my sense of self-preservation, but it’s really, really, really close. What didn’t hurt is that the dressing room had a 360 degree mirror, and I happened to catch a glimpse of myself from the rear. And after staring for several long seconds, I concluded…hey…it’s not so scary back there anymore.

Must be all the running. I’m up to 10 miles a week.

So THEN I tried on the shorts. And then I screeched and did a happy dance. And then I promptly bought a pair in every color, and a sexy shirt to match. Now all I must needs do is locate my wily nemesis, as my powers of enchantment grow stronger every day.

MUAH HA HA HA HA


! (Just one, ’cause it looks thinner that way)

Just before Christmas this past year, I bought two sexy little spencers. (A spencer, for those of you who aren’t familiar with the term, is a tiny, cropped, jacket-like top girls wear over tank tops. It cuts just under the bust line and may or may not meet over the navel with a button or snap.)

Two sexy little spencers that did *not* close at their respective buttons. The sales girls watching me try on these spencers assured me a spencer was not required to close. They suggested I buy the size that fit across the shoulders and wear it open. Even if it didn’t close, it still accomplished its purpose, which in my case was to draw attention away from my shoulders and focus it on the middle of my chest while smoothing out the hour glass line of my waist.

So I did, and I wore them, proud I’d finally defeated the fashion god who strove to keep me out of such trendy accessories by refusing to make them in my size.

And then today, after months of letting them hang in my closet because it was simply too cold to wear them, I took one out. Put it on. Realized…hey…I think the button over here actually might just reach the hole over there.

With baited breath, I brought the two ends together and…

The girls lied. These particularly cut jackets were definitely meant to close.

So if you’re wondering why I missed the book signing tonight, it’s because I decided this is a gain I’d like to keep. It’s a workout day. Next stop: bikini?


Summary

Number of pounds lost since last week: 1

Number of additonal lost pounds needed to meet second milestone: 1

Number of new outfits purchased to celebrate approaching milestone: 6

Number of new hairstyles: 1

Number of colors in new hairstyle: 2

Number of people who requested Lacey’s digits this weekend: 2

Number of people who used that number to call Lacey: 1

Number of times Lacey answered: 0

Number of new experiences in LaceyLand: 2

Number of new experiences that shall never be repeated: 1

Number of new scenes in VHM: 1.5

Number of scenes consisting solely of IM dialogue: 1

Number of new hotties spotted: 1

Number of new hotties coming up with lame excuses to invite Lacey out to lunch: 1

It’s been a good few days.


Tiny Update

Of course you already know Maven Darcy finaled in the Golden Heart. (There’s really only a very few ways to top that: Sale, Rita Finalist, NYT List, and death.)

In my arena, things are pretty hectic. I was going to lie and say fabulousity, but I don’t have enough time to come up with a suitable lie. I’m prepping for Maven Erica and Darcy’s arrival at the end of the week and to say I’m looking forward to them coming up would be the understatement of my year.

I’m also working on some things that are non-writing related, but if I told you about them I would have to kill you. And I like you. I think. But trust they are the sort of thing one does not put on the internet until after the bets are off. Bets are not off…bets are still going strong.

In other, other news, I’m having a birthday countdown party this weekend. Friday will make it 3 months and 56 days until my birthday. Clearly, it is time to have a party. Does the fact that Maven Erica demanded to meet all of my work friends have anything to do with the happy hour I’ve planned for 86 of my closest peers? Nah…

I will keep you updated.


00:20

2 miles in 20 minutes. Finally. Workshop report out tomorrow.

Possibly, the two are linked?

Gonna be a great Friday. Hope yours is, too.


Update: Success!

Just got some fan mail. Fan mail is a fun two-way street, isn’t it? She was amused I wrote her back, and I was highly amused she wrote me at all. Thanks for the shout out, P! You put a smile on my face.

Know what else puts a smile on my face? New clothes. Know what puts a HUGE smile on my face? New clothes in a smaller size.

Yep, last week I went into Target after my hair appointment (Erin did a fab job! Love the back, especially!) even though I knew it was a dangerous place. But I limited myself to one necessity and one splurge. The necessity: I got the *cutest* workout clothes. They’re a robin’s egg blue/smoky gray combination and they match my new running shoes perfectly. I feel so professional now! And yes, this was a treat for me because I’ve been sticking with it. I’m finally out of my old sweats/t-shirt/holey shoes. Stuff that made me feel, well, not professional. Not committed. (If you’re curious, I also dress up for work even though it’s not required or even asked of me. I absolutely believe in the old saying I’m going to mash up here: be the way you want other people to perceive you.)

Anyway, the double-bonus of my new clothes is, as I said, they are smaller. I got my usual sizes and then I picked up sizes Smaller and Much Smaller, just because I hate getting into the dressing room and finding out I need to go back out. For giggles, I decided to try on the much smaller stuff first. And it fit!

To compare:

In 2 months of running 3 times a week for 30 min and doing yoga/pilates 3-4 times a week for 20-40 min, I went from an XXL shirt to a L, an XL jacket to a Medium, and size 14 pants to a very trim 12.

YOU CAN DO IT!!!51fze2k7anl__aa240_.jpg

For the record, I am heavily motivated by my Shape magazine. I prioritize reading the new issues when they come. I especially like the “success stories” feature. I noticed most people who’ve lost 100+ pounds and kept it off for years and years have done it using the basic workout I listed above. They also swear by the trick I told you about last week, where you aim for losing just 1 tiny little pound a week.

It’s trickled outside of just stretching and walking the dog, too. Last night, I had a blast watching KC’s brother’s band play. I haven’t danced that much in….well, maybe never. I could tell I had a lot more energy, and other people in the bar apparently noticed, too. Not that they could compare me with old me, but people kept coming up and saying I looked like I was having fun. Lupe and I were the first ones out on the floor and I was one of the last people to leave. ROCK ON!!51p0pw884hl__aa240_.jpg

(And I went wearing my splurge outfit, in case you were keeping track. Note for those of you who don’t live in the NW: I bought a “summer” jacket. It’s the first summer jacket I’ve ever purchased. I am highly amused to own a summer jacket. DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I’M SAYING? I bought a jacket to wear in the summer. When most of you will be sweating off your June, July, August, and September, I will be wearing my summer.jacket.

Seriously.)

Right now, I’m sitting on the floor in my living room playing with my storyboard (and wearing my summer jacket, since my condo is freezing even with the heat cranked up). Can’t wait to share all the awesome changes going on!  What have you been up to?


It’s Not for Naught

Four pounds!! An expensive four pounds, but four pounds so far. Which is frightening because I’ve not been very good this week as far as exercising goes. Eating, yes. But being sick put a damper on my workout schedule. Well, there’s tonight! Plus, I can get a session in tomorrow if I push myself. Isn’t that what practically everything in life is about? Put a little more effort in and…BANG! Instant success.

Snort.

Oh, and one more thing. Chris Baty offended me this morning with his NaNo email. He said he looked and a lot of people haven’t even written one word. Well, I’ve written TONS of words! His system is a little flawed since I wrote them longhand. Ah, well. I guess it’s my fault for not counting each tiny word and updating my word meter. There’s a reason I count by chapters, you realize. I’m lazy.

He says this week’s goal is to get to 35K. Anyone close? Oh, and while I’m on the subject, who saw The Office last night? Cat-fight! Rrwarl! Poor Pam. Looks like it’s her turn to play tortured hero.

While I was screaming at the tv my boyfriend was like, “You know you love it.”

Grumble. Cliffhangers are for sissies! So cruel! How can I possibly enjoy my Thanksgiving dinner not KNOWING what’s going to happen next? Agh! Who writes this stuff?


Heroes in a Half-Shell (or ill-fitting name)

I feel like a Ninja Turtle. I don’t usually put pictures on my blog, but today I wanted to be sure you had a good image in your mind of what that means. See how Raphael looks like he’s been riding a horse for too long? That’s me. Oh.My.God. How did Gym Guy even FIND those muscles? Right there…ack! I can barely walk. I toddle around the factory, being late to my meetings because it takes me so long to get up the stairs.

Then see how Raphael’s shoulders are drawn so far back? Those are mine. Except I haven’t worked my arms since last FRIDAY. And see his grimace? That’s–you get the point.

Anyway. My plan today is to talk about names. Names are such an important part of a person’s identity, and this is no less true for your characters, right? But where do we get names? I mean, they’re everywhere, and yet in the end names have to come from somewhere. Then you have people lifting brows because you named your hero after a hot movie star. But benefit of the doubt: maybe you just liked it. Maybe it reminded you of someone you know or knew. Maybe it fit the character, so you had no choice.

That’s how it is with my hero’s name, at least. Jonathan simply can’t be anyone else. I know, because I’ve tried. Originally his name was Gideon. But that’s lame. So then I tried Garrett, but that was only slightly less lame. Then I realized where the muse was coming from for his character and “Jonathan” was the only possibility. Most of you know that’s because the whole idea for IYATDTD came from watching Batman Begins. But I digress.

So this Jonathan character was supposed to look inherently evil. Devilishy handsome, for those of you familiar with the cliche. But in the original 6-10 versions of my story, Jonathan was a lord masquerading as a lowly estate manager. Which meant my heroine and her staff and family would all know him as Mr. Lastname. Well, what’s Lastname? So many choices!

I thought it would be fantastic if my devilish/evil-incarnate hero (who was really a wallflower being mistaken for a rake) could have have a slightly romantic name. And what do you know, I used to know a guy with the last name Hart. And he was even sort of the similar idea: the Mr. Hart I knew was tall and bad-ass but had this girly name. So I took it.

(Some of you were kind enough to point out Jonathan Hart is actually the name of a doctor on an old soap opera. Lord, WHY is there nothing new under the sun? Just this once, I’d like to be original for a change. Egh!)

So then it seemed like a turn-off to have a hero with a girly name. I know–why can’t I make up my mind? But this just goes to show the kind of layering that goes into building a character, obviously. Snort. Anyway, feminine Jonathan Hart needed a bad-ass title. Now I didn’t know it at the time, but in Atlanta Jo Beverly explained what I subconsciously knew back in January: Jonathan, as a very long, multi-syllable name, is “girly.” And Hart was definitely romantic. So he needed a name he couldn’t shake, one that would have the ton quaking in their Hessians at the very utterance, and one that completely fit his evil-incarnate reputation.

Now think to yourself. What is the darkest, deepest, most evil title you’ve ever heard? C’mon, you know the answer to this one!

Here’s a hint: I always think of it the way it sounds through that ventillation thing. Lor-rrh-d Va-aaa-der.

Oooh! So evil! So delicious! Say it to yourself. Make sure you get all the nasal in there right :-)

Obviously, I can’t name my hero Lord Vader. That would be too obvious. But going back to what Jo Beverly said, the reason we all love Vader so much is because its consonants are very hard. Vah. Dah. Er. It’s all in the front of the mouth, like any good villain’s name is. (Skywalker, on the other hand, is all in the back of the mouth. It sounds flowery and whimsical because of it. Fascinating!)

Ok, so Vader is a good villain name. Except Jonathan’s not the villain, he’s the hero. And yet it’s too good to resist! This is how Lord Rader was born.

Problem is, I had originally intended for him to be Mr. Hart to the heroine. Buuut then I had to cut the masquerade sub-plot and suddenly he was Lord Rader to absolutely everyone. Going back to the reason I picked that name in the first place, he was supposed to be scary to Society but not to the heroine. She would have a chance to get to know him while he was a simple estate manager. Well, it didn’t do huge damage to the tone of the first book. But now I’m writing my second book and Lord and Lady Rader figure in pretty substantially. And everytime I refer to my heroine as Lady Rader, I cringe. It’s so perfect for the hero, but so not for the heroine!

(Hey, maybe that’s why his first fiancee killed herself. To avoid having to be Lady Rader for the rest of her life!)

Anyway. In that book, the heroine’s name is Kit. That’s because I picked a Shawnee name for her and the blasted British had to shorten it to something they could pronounce. The same goes for her brother, Sawyer, although maybe LOST did have something to do with it :-) Actually, the heroine’s original name was Annabelle because my neighbors as a child were Annabelle and Suzy. Except Suzy doesn’t sound very Regency, and besides, she’s decided to call herself Susii now. Annabelle was good when my heroine was more British than Indian, but then again there was a sudden influx of Annabelles and Isobelles last year and I said never mind.

So I looked up a list of southern American wildflowers and got Senna. But most of you already know that turned out to be a very common laxative sold in drugstores and Targets across America. Uh, whoops!

Finally I changed her name to Kisahthoi. But every time I changed her name, I had to change her brother’s name to match. So Nicholas became Cayne became Sawauseekau. Nicholas for a childhood friend, Cayne because the character was originally born in Florida and hey, Go Canes! And then Sawyer because it sounds hot. Thank God for ctrl+F!

The hero’s friend is Roman Alexander (there’s a long story behind that name) and his brothers are named alphabetically: Anthony, Bartholomew, Constantine, and Darien. The hero’s sisters are named after biblical characters: Sara, Hannah, and Rebecca. That’s because I wanted to put my best friend’s name in there and then realized I had Jonathan and Sara. Why not add a few more? (Maybe that’s why his mother was so disappointed in him. Religious zealot.)

See, I told you names were important.

The heroine’s best friend is Emily. I had a characterization all planned out for that young lady, but she totally blew it out of the water. Now the only resemblance she holds to the girl I used to know is that her name is Emily.

The villainess is Aunt Faye. That’s because my mom had a friend whose name was Linda Faye, and for whatever reason my mom thought sounded like linda fea which loosely translated would be pretty ugly in Spanish.

The names go on and on. I have one single-appearance character named Lord Conrad, because one of my friends wanted to be in the book and so I wrote down his name and the next time I needed a name, there it was. I actually have a running list of names like that.

But the thing is, no matter who the name gets assigned to, in the end the name is assigned because it fits that character for a why reason. Maybe it’s a matter of sounds like Jo Beverly said. Maybe it’s because of a cultural thing. Maybe it’s because the dog park near my house is built on Willowmoore Farm. Or because it amused me to name estates and towns and titles after cities in the Puget Sound area, like Microsoft codenames its projects Whistler and Anacortes. Whatever the reason, names give character to characters. They help build the story in a way that may seem superficial at first, but clearly is not when you write a gi-normo blog about them.

So, anyone else find themselves naming and renaming characters? How’s that going for you? Jacqueline, I know you’ve done it! Out yourselves!


Some Good Pain

I hurt. Everywhere.

Grrrrrrrrrooooooooooaaaaaaaan. Man! I had no idea I could lift so much weight. Which isn’t to say I can lift a lot–ho, no–but just that I can lift any at all came at a surprise. And even more interesting, there was a few mat exercises I wasn’t terribly bad at. Gym Guy seemed impressed at the length of time I can balance horizontally on my elbows and tip-toes, for instance. (Hint: more than zero ;-)

It must all be residual muscle memory from when I was working out pretty consistently back before I started employment here at Desk Jobs R Us. Up until January of this year, I worked at Super Package Delivery Company where, as you can imagine, I developed a pretty strong core balancing on the jumpseat of a package car, not to mention the awesome calves I had from getting in and out of a truck 180+ times a day. Plus, delivering in an area as hilly/mountainous as Puget Sound, there’s plenty of inclines to walk and stairs to climb. It was a high-energy job, and with my extra energy I would come home and work out.

Which is why that MUST be it. Because since January, I haven’t done squat. Pun intended. I’ve been nursing my author spread like a badge of honor. But no more! Now I hurt in places I didn’t know I could hurt, all from doing exercises I didn’t know I could do. Isn’t it interesting how there are so many things in life we can do but never do, or don’t believe we can do?

For example, I didn’t think I could ever bring myself to write a complete, literal “first draft” and actually wait to revise it during a second pass. I enjoy editing and revising far too much. But that’s what I’m doing. I’ve told you about my little book, and how writing longhand makes finishing the chapter so much easier to do. I know it’s because writing in uneditable, scrunched up longhand removes (or prevents) the temptation to tweak and revise while I’m mulling over something I’ll probably end up deleting in the final draft anyway.

But I caved yesterday. Oh, the shame! I was sitting at lunch writing a scene and the scene didn’t go in the direction I thought it would. It went in a new direction, maybe a better direction. But I couldn’t be sure. Because I had imagined this secondary character to be a gossiping busybody, I didn’t expect him to have a real serious streak in him. I was pleasantly surprised to find he might be both Gossipmonger and Wise Younger Brother.

Then I was afraid he came off schizo, because his long impassioned speech seemed to come out of nowhere. So I typed it up very quickly and sent it off. I needed to know my story was moving in a good direction, and that a reader wouldn’t be like, “Whoa! Where’d that come from?” Thonk. (Sound of book hitting wall.)

Now I feel like I can move on. The scene is still rough–you barely have any feel for where the characters are or what they’re doing–but the rest is going just fine, according to my critique partners. So I updated my write-o-meter for Chapter 7 and it’s off to Chapter 8 today.

Just like that. No editing. No revising. Just me trying to see if my character-driven plot can really fill out 384 pages and not drag in the middle, or become an instant wall-banger when the tension drops. Not to say the tension will drop out, but just that if this isn’t a viable story, if it needs more more, then it would be nice to know before I tighten every scene and smooth every sentence.

This is also why I’m going to push through to The End of IYAARTR, then finish up my revisions on IYATDTD, then come back and type up IYAARTR into a second draft. I’m hoping putting distance between the first draft and second draft will help me find the problems faster this time around. With IYATDTD, it took months and months for me to be able to see what wasn’t working, and the major changes came after doing two separate monster complete reads of the whole manuscript. Anyway, I’ve read about this technique on other author’s blogs and I’m hoping something like it might work for me. Certainly I’m itching to get back to IYATDTD. By preventing myself from revising IYAARTR, I’m jonesing for edits! I love editing!

I won’t tell you how much. It’s true when I started this blog I thought I wouldn’t have anything to talk about. What I didn’t count on was the fact that if you write every day, or close to it, you’ll have something to say every day. Either things are flying by and it scares you they’re moving so well, or they’re stalled and you’re worried you’ve lost your whole mojo. No matter what, if you’re writing, there’s something to talk about. And I love talking about it.

So…back to writing! All of you! Scoot!


I Need Professional Help

No, not that kind. Although I suppose that’s debatable. What I mean is, I just signed up with a personal trainer! (Insert !!! here)

I’m not sure what to expect. I hope my expectations aren’t through the roof. But this guy’s got me convinced he can fix me, and I laid an ungodly amount of money down betting he can. So now we wait, right?

Ha. No way. He totally believes in homework. I can barely keep straight what he wants me to do–all before our program even starts–although I’m really hoping after a few weeks it will all become routine. I need more routine in my life. I need someone to beat me with a stick and force me to do what I’m supposed to do. (Insert ironic laughter here)

This is why I shelled out the big bucks for an 8-week program, instead of just 3. Three weeks into the future I can still kick the habit pretty easily. Just look at FanLit. I kicked that habit to the curb, and now I only think about it when someone else mentions it. Which is fantastic, since I’ve banged through 5 chapters of my new WIP in just two weeks. So I’m hoping that 8 weeks into the future, I’ll have a habit that’s harder to break.

There’s another upside to this, too. If I have to stay awake to go to the gym, then I’ll have more time for writing.

See, I get up at the crack of %$@. I also get off work before most people have even taken their lunch. Unfortunately, I usually go home and take a nap after my strenuous day of sitting in front of my computer. Here’s the thing. I’m a nap person–it doesn’t matter if I sleep until noon, at 4pm I want a nap. But taking a nap eats into all that great time I have to work before my boyfriend (henceforth known as RB) gets home. And this is bad.

Relatively speaking. In reality, I probably can use all the sleep I can get. Except, I sleep at the expense of working out. If I stayed awake and went to bed around 10, and then woke up and immediately got dressed and walked out the door, I could have a lot of extra time in my life. Instead, I compensate for my lack of sleep by napping. Which is glorrrious.

All of this is my way of saying I’m horribly undisciplined. Last night was awesome, and guess what? I didn’t take a nap. I came home after having my “before” measurements taken (squee!) and then paid my bills (bleh) and worked on my WIP. Tomorrow is the Oak Harbor Pinball Show on Whidbey Island and I plan to get a TON of work done there. I could stay home, but I know if I did that I’d end up doing something stupid like taking a nap (this is what I did last weekend, when RB was at guitar practice all day) or watching 15,000 episodes of Scrubs (also what I did last weekend).

I’ll definitely be keeping you updated on my progress. Some of you might have noticed I deleted the exercise & weight loss trackers from my sidebar; I did this when I realized I needed professional help. And for anyone wondering why I finally broke down and decided to pay a man to aggravate me until I go to the gym when RB would have been happy to do it for free, I’ll tell you: I watched a fantabulous episode of What Not to Wear last Saturday (while I was not working on my new book) and felt really pumped to get off my rear and DO something about the things I know I suck at. For example, on Monday I went to Target and bought makeup. But not just makeup. I bought all those weird little specialty brushes and foam dabby things and yes, moisturizer, too.

You know what? It turns out, it’s pretty easy to recreate the makeup they do on What Not to Wear if you actually…buy it. Proper tools and equipment: Lesson One.

RB, on the other hand, has been paying a man to teach him to write music. See, my boyfriend plays guitar pretty darn well. But he realized he wasn’t growing or learning playing by himself, so when asking around looking for friends who wanted to jam turned up nothing, he gave in and found a teacher.

It’s working. He’s going to be a Rock God in no time flat.

Lesson Two: Find the right person for the job. Guess what? The right person isn’t me. I’m not all-knowing and all-able. There are some things I genuinely don’t know how to do. Why do I pretend? I admit I can’t, say, design an airplane. So why do I think I can do all things non-work-related?

Which brings me to my next few objectives. I need someone to a) design my website, which currently looks like a monkey put it together and b) go clothes shopping with me, because I have the taste of a monkey. After that, I might consider setting up a revolving appointment with my hairstylist, Monica. She did a great job on my hair for National and even spent eons teaching me how to flat-iron my hair. And did I go back? No! Why? Because I’m lazy and unmotivated!

So let’s get motivated, ladies! (And gentlemen!) Is there anything you’ve always wanted to do, but never quite been able to figure out for yourself? It turns out, my shiny new trainer has convinced me I don’t know how to exercise. Well, duh. He’s showing me there’s a lot more to it than flopping into the machine and lifting the weight. But will he be worth the down payment on a car? (Just kidding, RB. He’s not prohibitively expensive…)

I’ll tell you this: If in December, my only problem is a lack of money to spend on new clothes to show off my awesome bod, I’ll be happy.

Wouldn’t you?