In an effort to maintain what little sveltness I have during the gorge-friendly holiday season (and also because I never met a deal I didn’t like), I signed up for a month of unlimited classes at The Bar Method. I stupidly neglected to do any research about what the exercises were like – I just heard it was a kick ass work out and that was good enough for me. I walked into the fully-mirrored room for my first class earlier this week, sporting some loose-fitting running shorts and a t-shirt (my usual non-basketball workout attire) and quickly noticed everyone else was wearing fitted yoga pants and tanks. I quickly dismissed this observation, attributing it to everyone being much more girly than my tomboyish self.
However, once the instructor started barking exercises, I immediately realized why fitted pants were a necessity. One or both of my legs were either up in the air or on a ballet bar connected to a mirrored wall almost the entirety of the most embarrassing sixty minutes of my life. I tried to hold my shorts against my leg, but the instructor kept calling me out for not having my arms in the right place or having bad posture as a result of being paranoid about the free show I was giving my Bar Method classmates.
Yes, I was THAT girl. I did not know any better, and am forever ashamed.
As a last ditch attempt at salvaging my evening, I decided to make a nice dinner for myself. After a quick perusal through good ol’ Martha’s recipes, I found instructions for Pork Chops with Apple Chutney. I used my nifty meat thermometer (that I tried to double as a candy thermometer a few months ago) to make sure I didn’t overcook the pork.
The chutney came out a bit on the acidic side due to my heavy-handedness with the apple cider vinegar, but I evened it out by adding some table sugar to it.
Thanks, Martha. You never let me down!
AT-AT Everywhere 
PUHAHAHAH…if i EVER wanna make fun of you, i will remind you of this post.