Hot!Hot!Hot!

My hubby is looking too good...omigod! I can't even stand it! It's funny 'cause, I never really liked muscular guys when I was single. In fact, I liked 'em kinda lean and extremely tall. My hubby is neither, but I'm definitely warm for his form. Woo! He is too hot! He's down to his last twenty days before the competition and he's gearing up hard.

I remember the last time he trained for a show, about two weeks before, he had to avoid all sugars...all. I'm not just talking refined sugar (white sugar and sugar found in most non-perishable items and snacks), but natural sugar as well. Then, about two or three hours before the show, he adds the sugar back in. This makes him vascular and that's the part that's sort of freaky for me because all the veins sort of jump out at that point. A good thing for bodybuilding, I guess.

Anyway, I can see all of his six pack with no problem, his arms are huge (about 16 or 17 inches round), his back is massive and he's completely leaned out. At competition in 2000, he was carrying somewhere in the neighborhood of 7% bodyfat. Can you imagine? Crazy. He's probably close to that now. I'm really proud of him and my perspective on the sport has completely changed. On top of all that dedication he's putting forth, his mother is here (who he hasn't seen in about two years) so he's doubly focused. He wants her to come to his show. She's sort of old-fashioned...I wonder if she can handle a bunch of mostly naked men parading around the stage in competition gear (basically, a thong). She might pass out. For the record, this is an NGA competition, which means it is only for those who do not take 'roids. Everyone is drug tested before the show. My husband is an advocate of natural health and fitness, not the illusion of health and fitness due to drugs.

The Amazing/Unbelievable/Why Waste your Time Nail Fiasco

If you read one of my past posts, you'll see that I had a semi-day of beauty with my mother for her birthday. I had my nails done (active tips) and a pedicure. Well, I kept the nails because, not only were they gorgeous, but they were also totally manageable. They weren't so long that my typing speed was diminished or I couldn't pick up anything properly. They were great and hubby said they made my hands look so pretty (plus, I think the back scratches were extra nice). Anyway, I thought about keeping them up and getting a fill, but I couldn't arrange time to get back over there without the girls (I didn't want to subject them to the smell of those chemicals, especially the baby). So, I removed them and decided to do them over again myself, when the girls were asleep. Why not give myself a fill? Well, the nail tech used a solar seal and I don't have those so the fill wouldn't have matched.

So Monday night, I get to my favorite everything-you-ever-thought-you-needed-but-really-don't-for-cheap store which happens to carry tips, acrylic powder, liquid, wraps, clippers, top coat and files. I got all of my supplies, than realized I had two cuticle cream kits, so I put one back. That night after putting the girls to bed and fighting with my computer for two hours (never do a system restore...ugh!), I headed back upstairs to make my hands gorgeous again. I glued the tips onto my right-hand then..."Where's my acrylic powder? Dang it. I know I just had it." I began tearing up the house, running back and forth to the car...sure that it had rolled out of the bag and under the seat and, even though I had a flashlight and could see clear back into my trunk, surely I was just missing it. Ugh! Then I grab the receipt and account for my items...damn it! I put back the acrylic powder not the cuticle cream kit. So, I still had two cuticle cream kits (this at 11:30pm..."Ddoesn't the baby wake up in an hour or two for her nightly feeding?" Geeze). So, I ripped of the tips. Man, that hurts like a son of a beeatch! Can't keep 'em on, right? That would look too ghetto...like coming to work with half your braids done. Nah, uh. That's a negatory. So, off to work on Tuesday with shredded nail-hands.

Tuesday night, stopped at Big Lots to see if they have acrylic powder. They do! It's hidden behind about four file packs and some strange looking lipstick. Glad I saw it. Oh, and I need those "hold me in" underpants, since I don't have a waist yet. Oh, and I really need those cotton rounds, and baby soft for the babe, and TGI Friday's Hurricane mix in a bottle and cute faux pearl earrings (you gettin' the idea here?). I get home, get the kids situated, lay out all my stuff to do my nails again. I opened the container where the powder was, just to make sure; "What the hell? Nail fix powder...what's that?!" Obviously not acrylic powder. So, put the kids to bed, throw on some shorts and run to the grocery store. They only have those cheap-ass press-on nails at the grocery store and no longer carry the chemicals. What, you can carry bleach, pinesol and loads of other household products that could make a bomb, but no acrylic powder?! Morons. Oh! Well, Wally world's bound to have some. So, I headed over to Wal-mart and ran inside to see every person of the trailer variety rummaging around with their kids (who should be in bed, or at least, have their shoes on) looking for the next great thing to add to their cars...I mean trailers...I mean homes. Anyway, I get to the nail aisle and all the powders are included in these elaborate kits that cost too much. Don't they just sell the powder separately? Sure they do...with the liquid acrylic...which I already have. Shell out the $6.00 for both (Fie on you, Wal-mart!)

Head home and begin the process. Things are going well, even at 10:30 in the pm. Hubby is watching the House of Reps on t.v. Boring. "Why the hell are you watching this? Put in a movie or something. Geesh!" Eleven thirty in the post mortem, add the top coat and survey my beautiful hands. Not too shabby for wal-mart brand powder. I allow them to dry a bit longer, get ready for bed and go to sleep. Wake up. Survey hands in the evil light of day. "What the hell? What are all these bumps and stuff? Cheap-ass power...dammit!" Head over to wal-mart before school and buy "Nail Be Gone" for $1.83 and some tax. Get to work, fill a bowl and soak one hand while checking email. (this just gets better and better, doesn't it?) Soak other hand (first hand looks like a misshapen mess as the acrylic nails melt into globular knobs on the ends of my finger tips. so sad). Rush to the restroom to scrub hands furiously until knobs are in the sink wasting away down the drain. Pop on plastic press-on nails to save face in front of company at work.

Once home, I commence to biting of the press-on crap that looks so artificial and fake (even though the babe says, "Your nails look pretty, mommy"). Hands return to shredded-nail hands after about an hour of biting. I go and announce to my hubby, "Forget this crap. I'm getting them done." Waiting to hear from hubby when he can watch the girls, so that I can schedule an appointment...