signals, outlaws, celebrity arms

Yellow is the new green, and red is the new yellow — as far as traffic signals go. I love the yellow light. I love speeding through them, hoping to make it through before it turns red. For us law-abiding citizens, it’s the little things we have to count on to give us criminal-sized thrills. I can count on one hand the number of times I have actually slowed to a stop because of a yellow light (and I have regretted all of them).

Now that Omaha is in the talks of installing those cameras to take license plate pictures of us small-time outlaws, I may have to find a new vice. Or I could always follow in the footsteps of my father. In his area of Washington, those cameras are pretty standard, so he bought a license plate cover that blurs out the characters of his license plate to a picture. But no, maybe not, because apparently those are illegal — just ask my mom, she got the ticket.

I’m on my third day of eating healthy(er) and exercising again. Once upon a time, this was the norm, but it sure is easy to slip out of the habit. Especially for those of us who live for food (and no, I will not use the word “foodie” here because I hate it almost as much as I hate the word, “anywho”). If I am not eating, I am thinking about what I will eat next. It’s not an emotional eating thing, it’s just because I’m perpetually hungry. I heard that after just one week of neglecting your weights, you begin to lose your muscle mass. Not that I’m really the next cover of Women’s Muscle and Fitness, but I used to have some pretty defined pipes (Jennifer Aniston defined, not Madonna defined). It’s depressing how much work it is to not look like a slob.

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