AUBREEVISION - Observations from the far side of the dial

It seems many of my entries these days revolve around public transportation, but you just can't pass up material like that. I was thinking today about things people carry on buses after seeing a woman commuting with an enormous hardback case labelled "pipe and drum kit." Other things I've seen carried on buses:

• A kitten hidden (not very well, I might add) in a man's coat
• A huge oil painting, of which the owners were very protective (if you can afford what I presume to be fine art, why are you taking it home on the bus?)
• A large case of beer
• Stolen stereo equipment (three or four kids rushed onto the bus with an armload each; a couple of panting cops caught up and promptly escorted them off)

It's been a few days since I've written and the withdrawal finally forced me to a fix. I've been doing terribly practical things like budgeting and researching and returning phone calls. All very necessary but uninspiring stuff. One inspiring thing did come out of it, though -- I've officially decided to become a certified personal trainer. I'm very very very very excited at the prospect of a career in the area I love, with flexible hours to accommodate my writing life and triple the pay I'm currently making (I work in a Curves-style circuit training gym but am only certified on the specific equipment we use). Another big plus is that it's work I can do anywhere, which will put me in good stead for my eventual American migration (sorry Canada, but I do love that Yankee). And when Eric and I someday churn out the babies, it's something I can do part-time and even at home with the proper equipment. Ahhhh, my own home gym...psyched psyched psyched!

Working in gyms for the past year and a half has given me a whole new dimension of confidence, which I refer to as my "gym courage." I'm still shy by nature and occasionally falter, but I've learned that I can deal with many types of people and crank the perkiness up to previously unforeseen levels. Most of all, though, I've tapped into the power of my body, as flaky as that sounds -- I'm clueing into its potential and am working, ever so steadily, on becoming a lean, mean muscle machine. It tastes even sweeter when I remember those torturous junior high gym class days and the highfalutin' girl-jocks who sneered in the direction of those considered "just not athletic types." It was a label I dutifully swallowed -- I certainly never saw myself as having the potential or passion for serious fitness. But I've learned that there are many flavours of fitness and athleticism, and I'll probably always be scared of the ball but damned if I can't outrun it.

So now that I'm nearly convinced I can do this, I just have to decide which of two training courses to take -- the YMCA's, which is more expensive but more thorough, or CanFitPro, which is shorter, cheaper but internationally recognized -- and wait for my tax return bonanza to show up (maybe it would help if I filed). I'm also working on streamlining my body with new eating habits and continued exercise -- my first month of the dietary revamp has gone extremely well, better than I'd hoped, but my monthly measurements/weigh-in/body fat%/BMI calc tomorrow will tell the true story.

HUHHHHHH! (That's the sound of an aubree grunting and flexing, tough-guy style)