Valentine’s Day, Fitness, Love And Getting Older

A while ago I read an article recommending that authors should let their readers know about themselves. What are they doing in their free time? How are their lives? What do they like or dislike?

As a result, I decided to blog about Valentine’s Day, Love, getting older – and fitness.

These subjects came up in my life just lately, when I noticed I’m getting older. Did you ever realize, like me, that not long ago, you hopped drunk, from party to party, and suddenly every week another one of your body parts wants to see the doctor? Yes, that’s what I thought.

See, I’m trying to keep myself in acceptable shape, but I never considered myself being a person who gets up at 6 am to go jogging! – And I proved myself right!

In many ways, I do have problems to comprehend some people’s fitness obsession. A friend of mine bought herself an electronic counter to check meticulously how many calories she burns – at home! I didn’t drive myself to that extreme… I got a motion sensor.

I admit I don’t want to look skinny. I want to look like I can kick someone’s ass! It’s much more fun to be underestimated. Just in case someone wonders: yes, I do work out – at least once, but occasionally up to four times a week. And even if I don’t look like it, I can kick someone’s ass.

But workout or not, the progressing age is unmistakable. Again, not too long ago I couldn’t pass a construction site without hearing the well-known whistles or exchanging secret smiles or sexy leers. Nowadays I can’t even wink anymore! When I tried to act sexy last time and wink to a guy, I ended up in a clinic – with a suspected stroke!

Once again, on Valentine’s Day, I’m single. No flowers, no chocolate, no hearts, no love letters, nothing. It’s a bit sad, since I like – uhm… all of it. But hey, either you have someone who does that for you on his own account, or you don’t. Having a guy you need to remind… ain’t working for me.

But then, allow me a word on my own account, to my last lover:

“I know, you think, you’re a world class French-kisser. But please, French-kissing is generally ‘limited’ to the mouth. If I’d like someone slobbering all over my face, I’ll get myself a St. Bernard-puppy.

Oh – and by the way: when we made love the very last time… out of courtesy, I asked you politely if I was too heavy. Believe me, the answer “No, I always turn blue when having sex.” is really bad! No man should ever say, or even think that! You were supposed to suffocate with dignity!”

I think, I did all right, with permitting my readers and friends a peek into my private life, didn’t I? I hope you had as much fun reading as I had writing this post. (And enjoyed a good laugh too!)

I’ll end this post with Oscar Wilde’s last words on the deathbed: “Either this wallpaper goes or I do!” – The wallpaper won.


I hope you enjoyed the giggles and I wish you and your loved ones: