Caroline Timm: 4 F

January 25, 2011

It’s been so long since I last posted that I couldn’t remember my password and couldn’t log in. Had to create a new password. What the hell did I use before? I’ve had the same one since I was a zygote.

Speaking of zygotes (wow. my 6th gr English teacher would be so proud of me right there), I’m pregnant. So the war with my derriere (I have to be more polite now, ya know) is really in full effect. I mean I can’t do the Bar Method for fear of hurting my unborn child. I wouldn’t want to hurt myself either. This makes perfect sense.


So the only exercise I get is walking the dog, which isn’t so bad… Of course I consider worrying exercise,too. I do a lot of it and even though it won’t matter in a few months, my stomach muscles are rock hard because of it. My stomach lining on the other hand could probably use a make over, but you take the good with the bad.


Where has all the time gone? No, seriously, I mean this very minute…I gave myself 15 minutes to write this here blog and in that time I had to wait for my new password to be emailed to me and I got a phone call. Also I’m logged into facebook so there’s a black hole of productiveness all on it’s own.


I gotta go. It’s been real. I’m sure I’ll log back in here when the new baby is around 11 years old. The tough stuff will be nearly over by then. I’ll have more time. mhm.

Who am I kidding? I’m having a girl.

Check Point Charlie Horse

June 27, 2010

I have begun The Bar Method. I’ve chosen it in DVD form as opposed to making an ass of myself in public at one of the studios. One day I woke up and my neck muscles were the most sore. I think from clenching my teeth in pain. Mhm.

Would you like a charlie horse in your ass for fun? Try ‘the pretzel’ move. All you have to do is play the DVD 10 times to figure out how the hell to sit in the position and then by play #11 you might actually be able to move your leg around the way the lady says you should. Please also try doing the pretzel without thinking about how you’d rather be EATING a big fat greasy pretzel from the mall. or really without thinking that you might rather be doing ANYthing else.

I recommend NOT doing this while someone else is watching. My daughter has politely told me numerous time that my ‘face looks funny’ when I do that. Ah motherhood. Ego out the window.

BUT even I keep coming back for more on this one,  folks. This is saying something.

I should be taking diary photos of my ass for proof of progress, but nobody needs to see that.

White Flag

April 6, 2010

October was the last post. Hey, wow. Pretty sad.

Back then I was actually working out a little, too. That is if you count thinking about it a lot and occasionally watching the Food Network as I fumble along on the treadmill at the Y. I do. I count that, cuz since the beginning of 2010 a whole lotta nothin’ has been goin’ on in regards to working out.

Nothing like the day after Easter Sunday filled with ham, scalloped potatoes and buckets of cool whip to get myself to log on to my EXERCISE blog. Is there a patron saint of exercise?

Anywho- I’ve been busy. Let’s explore my excuses, shall we?

#1. I got a puppy. I had visions of actually getting MORE exercise this year while on long blissful walks with my adorable dog morning, noon and night. Somehow I also pictured having much cuter little work out clothes; some sort of matchy-match jogging set, maybe a headband that didn’t have sweat and zit cream stains on it, some sparkly white tennis shoes, a tan. Apparently I envisioned becoming an entirely different human being upon purchasing a cockapoo.

Alas, I am the same me. I am, indeed, the same person who figured she’d probably lose her cool at the nippy little pile of monster fluff I’ve brought home. And lost my cool I have. and then felt guilty about it. This poor dog doesn’t stand much of a chance at being normal. Just ask my kids.

I am definitely up and at ’em more. I’m getting less sleep and venturing down my staircase more than usual, but really we can’t take much of a run together yet. I regularly trip over him as he bolts across my path as soon as I pick up steam. I might be working out my leg muscles a little more than usual as I shake him off me. And I’m bending over more- never mind it’s to put another band-aid on my bleeding, bitten ankles. My clothes? Somehow I’ve managed to look more like a clown than ever these days- tossing on boots with pajama shorts and rain parkas.

Ya know what? I’m gonna count it as exercise.

#2. I started a screenwriting class the day after I got my puppy. Hey, I got an idea, when you’re too busy to handle everything in your life, add more stuff. This seems to be my philosophy.

My class requires at least 10 hours of work a week to complete a feature film screenplay in 8 weeks. I’m on my 8th week here. I’ve got a script. It sure is a … script. A good run might have actually helped me brainstorm better than scribbling in my notebook with a barking puppy nearby. Who KNOWS what I could have come up with by watching the Food Network on the treadmill.

I swore I’d start this blog up after I finished my script. I’m not quite done. I’m obviously trying to procrastinate writing the end of this. I mean, right? if I’m writing a blog I haven’t updated since OCTOBER…

aaaaand #3. the main reason:  I hate it. It comes back to this. I don’t wanna. I don’t wanna work out. I just don’t.

I need to figure out how to fix that last one. Especially because I still wanna be a bad ass superhero when I grow up.

I think I’ll go watch TV for inspiration.

Poker Face

October 18, 2009

Ok. So I made the mistake of thinking about going to a Halloween party as Lady Gaga and now my stubborn self has decided it’s a must.

Let’s forget for a moment that I’m not a very big fan of Halloween. I’m just not. I’d like to be. I’d like to say that since I’m an actress I find dressing up and “acting” as different characters on a day dedicated to such things a real treat, but I sorta loathe it. And I can’t put my finger on why. It might be my issue with asking for things. I always felt awkward ringing that doorbell and sticking my bag out for them to put candy in it. This would explain a lot of things about me that I don’t care to dwell on today.I said let’s FORGET for a moment…

But this party I’m invited to is a party where you dress up as your favorite rock star. Now I’ve been given an assignment that’s been narrowed down for me. I like this much better. And Lady Gaga is just asking for people to go as her for Halloween. How can you not?

Thing is, she rarely wears pants. This brings up my ass dilemma. Again. And good news- I’ve been working out! Really I have. And I’ve forgotten to let the world know about it. Kinda like that war going on over there in Iraq. People kinda know it’s happening still, but it’s never mentioned by anyone anymore. And this might be for the best- as is my growing “mom butt” situation.

It’s either work out or wear that red lacy outfit she wore to the VMAs which DOES cover her butt…but is completely see-through. A lot of difficult decisions ahead for me. I vow to try to make it look like I’m not trying. Dare I say it, use my poker face. ohhhh. lame. I apologize for that. I think with all this water I’ve been drinking lately to release toxins is washing away “clever”.

If there’s ever a visual you need to get back on the treadmill or start doing leg lifts, it’s yourself dressed as a half-dressed 23 year old performance artist. GASP! I can’t BELIEVE I haven’t put her on my ipod yet for the workouts. Note to self: do that after this.

I promise to keep you posted on the war with my butt. If I don’t, the terrorists win. Or in my case, Hollywood and all the women with tight buns win. Now I’m off to a 1 year old’s birthday party. There will be cake to eat. And I don’t want to be rude.

Inspired by blogger Julie Powell

August 15, 2009

I just saw Julie and Julia with my daughter. What an inspiring film.

We both left saying “This makes me really want to cook.”

When we got home I heated up some left over pizza and Mayah made some pasta for herself.

hm. Maybe tomorrow.

Look, I know it’s been a while since I’ve been on here. Don’t think for a minute that my bod stayed the same while I was away. I have been cramming my 30-something derrier into my pants that don’t fit now for a good month. It kinda doesn’t make any sense. I’ve been sufficiently stressed and sustaining myself on peanut butter filled pretzels and coffee. I should be in tip top shape… oy.

I’m only here for a moment because if Julie could work a full time job and cook 524 rescipes on 365 days I could log on here and tell you I haven’t done jack shit in the war against my flab for two months.

I have looked on the bright side these past couple of months, though. When your pants are tighter your butt actually stays in place better. It has no choice.

Bon Appetit.

My idea of exercise is a good brisk sit. ~Phyllis Diller

June 2, 2009

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Back to the grind.

Music Man Jr is over and my kids were fantabulous. I most certainly got “work outs” in- and possibly permanent knee damage with all the crawling around after kids I did!

I think trying to camouflage exercise only works when you’re really busy. Trying to pass off babysitting once in a blue moon as exercise works- I’d say- once in a blue moon and that is all. It’s a new week. A new month. I figure it’s time.

I have gone for half hour sweaty speed walks for the past two days. There was no mistaking it for anything else but exercise, try as I might. It started out as a jog- and then I got to the top of a hill and everything started going fuzzy. I decided if I wanted to see the end of the day I should stick to walking. Who the hell do I think I am- a miracle worker?

Once I get home I stretch and do some random yoga poses I’ve picked up for the 8 times I’ve done my yoga video here at home. See that, I’m talking as if this is a regular routine. I’ve done it twice. I dusted off some hand weights and even gave those a spin. It’s a wonder I can hold my arms up to the keyboard. The key is good music. And boy am I random. I skip around from classical to My Chemical Romance. Somehow, depending on my mood, they can evoke the exact same emotion. It’s all so clear now. Beethoven was the angst-ridden performer of his time. Nobody put words to his music, but I’ll bet ya they would’ve been “I’m NOT OKAY”, too.

Still, the 10 loads of laundry I’ve had to do in the past two days has gotta count for something. I have 16 steps leading up to my front door and I’ll be damned if that ain’t regular exercise- especially with baskets full of clothes and towels and sheets and blankets.

I’m gonna be a hard ass. Er have one… er something.

“We’ll never survive!” “Nonsense. You’re only saying that because no one ever has.” William Goldman The Princess Bride

May 27, 2009

Wednesday May 27, 2009
Could it really be over a week since I wrote? Wow. I have failed miserably. If you saw my schedule, though, you’d understand.

I am knee deep in 1912 with the Music Man Jr and 83 kids ages 8 to 11 years old.  I’m gonna need a vacation after this- and trust me, it’s a work out.  I’m moving sets and props, I’m running around to get kids in the right place, I’m sweating under stage lights.  I feel no sorrow or guilt for the loss of a “real” workout during weeks like this.

AND I just went on a big family camping trip with the scouts. Lots of long walks. Exercise, for sure- but really that’s just to make up for the crap food I will need to eat this week on the run as cooking a decent meal of any kind will be a laughable idea.

I’ll be back next week. I’ll be clever and witty and energetic. This week I must concentrate on survival.

“During times of war, hatred becomes quite respectable…” Howard Thurman

May 19, 2009

Tuesday May 19, 2009  9:39am

Yesterday I took the stairs.  Whenever possible. I walked around a little,too.

It’s all I got for ya. Not enough?

Kiss my white flabby all-american …

“You and [your ass], full speed ahead.”

May 15, 2009

Friday May 15, 2009
Alright fine. I’ve missed two days. I have a raging cold or allergies, not sure which one.
Excuses. I’ve got loads.
SO let’s recap the days I missed.
Wednesday I spent 3 hours in the am in a prop house climbing stairs, moving furniture, lugging it from trucks…QUITE the work out and I happily count that towards a work-out-that-is-not-a-workout. Yay me.
Thursday… wellllll. I spent the day at a friend’s house with babies and carried around a baby. I am not sure that counts in normal people’s lives as a workout, but then again, I don’t believe in normal people. Show me one. And any mother will tell you carrying their babies around is a work out. And-definitely- if my right arm could speak, it would without a doubt say “Hell to the yes- it was a work out!” It helps I love that kid.  I also did loads of laundry and went grocery shopping- hauling bags and baskets up my stairs in numerous trips. Can I get a shout out from all the moms out there?
So really it’s been a good week.  And I’ve discovered why I’m actually thin. I have no time. When you are constantly moving the fat has no time to stick.
Still, none of the things I’ve done this week will give me the athlete’s ass I so desire. The war rages on.
That’s, right, jello-butt, you’re not fooling anyone with your flatness. Flat does not equal awesome. Skinny does not equal powerful. Skinny does not equal healthy.
Skinny does not book me a role as some ass-kicking, kick-ass woman in some action-y show. (neither does being 33 in this town, but I digress).
Skinny only gets me into those ‘skinny jeans” I bought and I can find very little satisfaction in those jeans (and my calves can’t either as they gasp for air).
Once again, I thank my GENES for being good and I thank my JEANS for faking it for me until I can walk around and not feel my butt stop moving AFTER the rest of my body has stopped. Beyonce I am not. I am a white girl. And white girls do not “got back”, if you will.
Ahem. Clearly, skinny does not make you “hip”, either.

“Aim High”

May 13, 2009

Tuesday May 12

Ok. I have a confession. I didn’t do the yoga I said I was gonna do last night.  I was tired. Really tired. And I’ve never been able to understand those people who get up at 5am to work out when, truthfully, it might be healthier to get more rest.  So I am of the same opinion at night. Stay up another half hour to do some yoga or go the hell to sleep cuz in 7 hours you gotta get up to do life all over again? I choose sleep.
Don’t tsk tsk tsk at me too long. I got up, got the kids fed and off to school and then did an am yoga session. And tonight maybe I’ll do a pm yoga session- right after American Idol. Ahem.
Until then- I’m hoping my butt and I make it through the day.
American Idol is over and, alas, I am faced with having to work out at far too late an hour. Here’s the thing. My daughter and I took a nice impromptu walk tonight- lots of it was hills.
Aaaaaand then we sat in the dark and watched a movie for 2 hours. BUT we walked back home, of course. THAT trip was- miraculously- uphill, too! Ok. No no. It wasn’t, but it was better than any workout I could have done today. We laughed and joked and discussed the film and laughed some more.
If it makes you feel better I have been pretty stressed recently and so all that tension surely has been a workout in it’s own right.
Basically what I am saying is there’s no chance in hell I‘m working out tonight.
Here’s a snapshot of what I’ve had to deal with today:
Bed bugs

A fax machine I can’t work

Drama with drama (which includes, but is not limited to, e-mails, phone calls, lunch meeting and rehearsal)

Audition with Crankasaurus Rex

Inner dilemma about letting my daughter eat crap Chinese food

the discovery of yet another blond actress from Australia stealing my jobs
I mean I barely made it through 17 Again without a breakdown. But let’s face it, that’s cuz I too was upset I wasn’t 17 Again … aaaaand trapped in a room with Zac Efron. If that’s wrong I don’t feel like being right. Give me that. I ain’t gettin’ any younger.

Does it count as a workout if that movie made me sweat a little?