Jessica Hildrum

I always wanted high cheekbones

I have always dreamt of having beautiful high cheekbones, that Sophia Loren look, slender nose, high cheekbones, big eyes…

OMG! It's Sophia Loren!! Kinda, sorta

But then again I have, of course, also dreamt of waking up in the morning and finding I had morphed into Cindy Crawford (kafka eat your heart out).

Somehow I do not think I would be so very repulsed to that particular awakening.  Though honestly and between us seeing as I am not her and unfortunately there is not much chance of the painless morphing, the spiteful part of me does wish she would have the true Kafka experience – Cindy may you awake and find yourself a gigantic roach! MUAHAHAHA.

And while I may never wake up and find myself to be that leggy blond (you remember the type: perfect – life is easy – always gets the guy – nordic beauty), I just might if I suck in my cheeks hard enough and long enough permanently achieve this beautiful sexy look.

I am really bad with names

It is terrible I know, but I am really  bad with names, you could tell me your name fifty times and even though I really like you or even fancy you, your name will simply have evaporated from my brain.

A case in point, when I met my ex-husband and he told me his name, I could not for the life of me understand what he said, and after having asked like twelve times I figured enough was enough I’d just have to fake it.  All I knew was he was really cute, tall, buff and smart albeit really quiet.  I couldn’t tell you when I finally caught and understood his name, it may have been close to eight months later, around the time we were filling in the forms to get married, until then I think “sweetie” and “pufflehead” were probably the main terms of endearment I used and of course “hey, you” always got his attention.

I was out last weekend and met some really cool people although their names escape me entirely, I can remember their occupations, the profound discussions we had, where they live (easy as they were my neighbours) and yet names… gone.  It is kind of embarrassing to have intense deep conversations with people and yet no amount of cajoling, dredging or beating with two-by-four will bring the names to conciousness.

I am sure there is some way to train my brain to remember and that is probably a good idea given that my job is all about creating and maintaining relationships and being able to remember someones name is key.  Calling a customer “hey, you” or “pufflehead” I am sure will not have the same positive effects it did with my ex.  Although, I for one, am always game to try.

Summer is here – and I am still a porker

Every year around early January I promise myself that this year I’ll get back into shape, be the trim, slim version of myself I have not seen since before the birth of my wonderful son.  And for once I thought I was going to get there what with daily workouts, very little sugar and no dairy, I was feeling pretty good.

And now here we are end May, the grass is so green it makes your eyes ache (either that or makes you think of that nasty little leprechaun in his ceaseless search for your lucky charms).  The sun is out, which in Norway is no small feat, and I am not even close to bikini shape, having fallen off the excercise wagon about two months ago.

Don’t get me wrong I am not being mean to myself, I still look ok, I do get a decent amount of attention, but am feeling more weeble wobble than hourglass.

I am really struggling to get started again, even though I know I’d feel and certainly look better if I just got started, and really it’s not too late, if I start today I could be less flabby in a couple of weeks.. And yet, that QP is so tempting, and the couch feels so good.

I guess what I need to do is re-implement the 7 day challenge.  So, starting tomorrow I renew the 7 day challenge, excercise a minimum of one hour EVERY day.

Mañana here I come, with a look of determination and wishes of a less flabby tush.