Monday Musings

• Apparently, even after parsing through my clothes 8 billion times I still have too many clothes. So here I am again, on a Monday night, cleaning out my clothes again. Seriously, bitch, you're never gonna be that skinny again so chuck the fucking skank clothes already. One of these days that will work. Today is not that day.
• Why don't I wear sweat pants more often? Seriously, it's the most comfortable shit out there and yet I never wear them. I miss living in Jersey where it was perfectly acceptable to go to the bar in sweats at least once a week.
• Why is it no matter how hard I try, my fucking room is a disaster. My apartment is a metaphor for my life. A MESS. And the more I try to get my act together, the messier the apartment gets. It's like all the effort I put into growing up sucks the energy right out of me. By the time the work day ends, it's over.
• This visualize success thing is crap. If it did ANYTHING, I would be famous, successful, married and HAPPY. As it is, no one knows me, I'm not successful, I'm single and I'm only seemingly happy until the booze wears off. But it is definitely not for lack of trying as I spend a majority of my life envisioning something completely different than my reality. Starting with being skinny. And toned. And not sitting at a desk filing paperwork all damn day.
• For those of you unaware, I have two tattoos. One is in my pants and the other in my shoe. One my mom knows about, the other she does not. One I love and the other I regret whenever I want to wear my suit skirt or have to try to figure out how I'm hiding it from my mom when I go over the her house. What a stupid idea. And a drunken one at that.
• I need to make another change. But I'm not sure what. My hair? My weight (fat chance)? My job (a month in and I'm already contemplating)? My friends? My charity work? My locale? All things I have been thinking about recently. Things that need adjusting. Whew I'm exhausted just listing them.
• I think I need to make a 2011 bucket list. Not sure what will go in said bucket but I need some things to aspire to.
• Scrooge Moment: I know it's the holidays and it's all about giving but JESUS CHRIST YOU ASSHOLES I AM BROKE. Not to mention, not one of you donated to my race in the summer so I'm a little confused as to why you think I NEED TO DONATE TO YOUR CAUSE. Giving is a year round thing and not just a oh look booze with a cause! thing. That being said, I will attend some charity events this Christmas but don't be offended if yours is not one of them. Be happy that other people are attending and content yourself with the fact that I donate to causes all year and am tapped out by December.
• Statistics are the stupidest thing in sports. For instance, today I saw on someone's facebook status, "The top 5 SEC West teams are 34-1 against everyone but themselves." Ummmmmmm....what the fuck does that even mean? You basically took out ONE FUCKING team that probably dragged that stat down. Stats don't mean shit if you're randomly leaving things out. There are 12 teams in the SEC, 6 in the SEC West. You took the shitty team out so that you could inflate your ego. Fucking retarded. Anyone can manipulate stats to reflect what they are looking for. Also, like Verizon and AT&T both being number one. Number one in what? One of them is in coverage and the other in speed. But just to let you know how great AT&T's coverage is, they tell you in a commercial that they cover 97% of Americans. You might think this means 97% of America is on AT&T and think to yourself, holy shit! But no, friends. It means they can offer coverage in 97% of the United States.
• Why do people gush about their significant others on facebook? I don't give a fuck how blissfully happy you are. In fact, you're just asking for me to root for you to fail. And my guess is, you aren't happy. You just want everyone else to think you are.
• I'm still obsessed with the Randy Moss One Clap video. Mo this Mo that Mo this Mo that.
• Dear everyone, I'm broke. Stop asking me to do things that cost money. Dear self, stop fucking spending it on pointless shit.
• I love Victoria's Secret. Even fat people feel sexier in it.
• I need a coat rack.
• I need to go to more sporting events. Even when I don't like the teams, I like the games. Maybe I need to pick a city and like all the teams in the city. That might be helpful. Apparently, living in Atlanta and being a Pats and Yankees fan is not helping. Though I am close to hoping on the Falcons wagon- so much energy and excitement. Not to mention Samuel L Jackson.
• I could clothe a small village and yet I have nothing to wear. Ever. Even I don't understand how that works.
• I'm a really big bitch. Especially right now. I don't know what it is but I have no patience for stupidity. Or comparisons. I am not like anyone you know. I'm not like you. Stop pretending I am. Where is that coming from!?!?!?! Even I hate myself when I'm bitchy.
• Sometimes I wonder what kind of person I would be if I had gone to church on Sundays. Boring. But maybe married. And happy with the lot life gave me because it's in God's plans or some shit. Sigh.
• I'm going to drink a glass of wine and pretend a very attractive guy is on his way over. This seems to temporarily cure what ales me.

Worst Maid of Honor Ever.

Barbie: WATCH THE FUCK OUT.

There, you've been warned. Now, if I (or God) somehow fuck this up, it is not my fault. You went into this with your eyes WIDE open.

Anyway, Saturday my best friend in the whole world got married. And decided she wanted, no needed, me to be a part of her special day. I had a great intentions, I swear. But life, God, her friends....they had other ideas. But let's fast forward to the wedding weekend, itself.

The wedding day dawned nice and sunny. I went for a run (see, less shambles), showered and headed to the store to pick up a gift for Barbie's wedding. Then I headed to the Aveda Institute.

Where I lost 5 fucking hours of my life. No big... I didn't want to enjoy any part of my Saturday. Especially, the part where the DAWGS were playing a fucking football game.

Afterward, I swung by my apt to pick up my overnight bag (shack bag if you will. Never know where you'll end up on wedding night) and my bridesmaid dress and then

began the 30 minute trek to the bride's house. The rest of the bridesmaid's were there getting ready already since they rode with the bride from the Aveda Institute.

So I'm cruising down Buford Highway (also known as illegal road. If you don't get this then you're denser than me). And I'm thinking to myself how much weddings suck. And how much it sucks to be sober at 4 pm on game day. And suddenly... like a mirage in the desert (oasis maybe) there it is...

TOWER LIQUORS.

What's a girl to do?

Well, I have no idea what the answer to that is, but this bitch swung a right into the parking lot and beat a hasty path to the nearest pint of Jack Daniels. Side note: that is a serious fucking website. I may never go to another liquor store. EVER. So after paying $13 bucks for a pint of JD I haul ass back out to my car, sling my bag into my car and shove the key into the ignition. Turn it.

Nothing. No lights. No noise. NOT A GODDAMN THING.

Pop the hood (what the fuck is that going to do? I don't know but it was helping to keep me from panicking).

A Polish couple walking by stops and takes a look. Tells me to go inside and get a coke. Corrosion or some shit?

This leads to me having a fucking meltdown in Tower liquors over fucking chips and coke. Apparently, me crying will not get me JUST a can of coke unless I have 78 cents. Fuck you check out lady and your idiotic inability to tell me what I could buy to take me up to $3.50 which is your minimum. Here's a thought you dumbfuck: LIQUOR. In a bottle. Someone should fire you.

Anyway the Polish guy pours the coke on the battery. I try to start the car. Still NOTHING. Well, shit. Now I am crying (wearing my shades to semi-hide this fact of course). Now a hispanic guy pulls his hoss of a truck next to me and tries to jump my car.

STILL NOTHING.

And the manager tries his hand at helping me. Only to find a very pissed off, crying bridesmaid who does not want to run through coke and jumping all over again. Finally, he realizes he can walk over to Firestone and "want I should arrange a battery for you?" Why, yes, yes I would like this. Why did no one fucking mention the Firestone 45 minutes ago?!?!?!

The Firestone guy comes over, charges my battery and has me pull my car into Firestone. "Ten minutes, tops," he tells me.

Then, suddenly, he sighs. Loudly.

HE DOESN'T HAVE MY DAMN BATTERY. He sends me two miles down the road to Autozone. Now, on the way there I start to wonder, what will I do while I go in and get my battery? Leave the car running? Because every time the car stops, it dies. And it sputters on left turns so now I'm nervous. I start scrolling through my phone.

Mom is at the lake. Step Dad is in rehab. Dad is in New Jersey. Brother is at work. Oh look...I'm single. My guy friends are drunk watching the UGA game. The Bride didn't bother to tell her father (a 40 year employee of fucking GM) that my car was dead. And then a light goes on over my head.

"Hi, Matt? What are you doing?"

Did I mention I'm a user? Matt is a friend of mine from high school. He is married. He went to Tech (I know, it bothers me too). He happens to know a couple of things about cars. He is not busy. So I cry my story out to him.

Matt says he will meet me at home after the wedding and get me a new battery. Just get to the wedding. So I pull a UTurn in front of a cop too lazy to care and head to the venue. Two miles from the damn venue my car lights up to tell me I have no fucking gas. So I call Matt and tell him the latest....

My life truly is in shambles.

How did this turn out?

Well, I pulled up to the venue and started getting my shit out. The Best Man and Groom pull up and we pass around my bottle of JD (Did I mention I'm late?). I head into the venue, take 5 minutes to slap makeup on, shove pins in my shit show of a hair style and another 15 to get into the damn dress. Which wouldn't zip.

Matt came to the venue and during the wedding fixed my car and put gas into it. All's well that ends well.

I really am a user.

Saturday Scramble

And not just because I'm having scrambled egg whites for breakfast!

• Today my very best friend in the whole world is getting married. She and her Marine fiancee have been together for almost 7 years now. She is sweet as can be and he is kind of a sarcastic ass so they balance each other really well. Of course, I'm the Maid of Honor. Have I done anything toward my speech. Nope. I asked the best man if he had written his and he told me he was just winging it. The bride is VERY nervous about what the two of us will say....and with good reason. According to her, we are basically the same wild, crazy, drunken person. It definitely does not bode well that I arrived late to the rehearsal (I've been in 9 weddings. I think I can handle it) and he told me he was counting on me to keep him in line during the wedding. To which I responded, "That's what your wife is for buddy." Also bothersome to the bride and groom was the groomsman and brother of the bride asking me to come out with them last night for the bachelor party. So I stayed in. Sigh.
• Got up this morning and went on an awesome 3.5 mile run. It was probably pretty slow since it involved some hills but it was a chilly 37 degrees with the sun out and the roads were quiet. Decked out in my Nike gear (sidenote, theyought to sponsor me. Not just hardcore athletes wear their shit you know. They need an everyperson. I am that person), I felt perfect. That Nike jacket I obsessed over last year is definitely the best investment I've ever made. In fact, I saw new colors and I want them now as well.
  

• Me in my Nike Gloves and Jacket before my run!
• Tomorrow is Barbie's engagement party. An monogram party. What the fuck is with Southern people and themed wedding gigs? Why do you need 8 million showers and opportunities for gifts? In her defense, Barbie isn't that kind of bride (she actually kind of doesn't even want this party!). But if you're going to throw a monogram party, give your guests more than 2 weeks to scramble to find gifts. I have this thing called a life and I can't just go find monogrammed shit. You have to get it made. Thanks to Swoozie's for putting a rush on her gift for me! Whew.
• This week has truly been a good week. I'm feeling very adult and in control of myself. Aside from the apartment being a wreck, I feel like I've got a handle on life. As in I'm treading water now instead of drowning.
• Wish me luck- weekends are typically when I fall off the healthy living train and have to wait for the next train to come around! I've lost about 5 lbs this week just from adjusting my eating (actually eating MORE but healthier foods) and squeezing in a quick 2 mile run each day.

159.6

Back under 160?!?!?! In a week! Shows what a 2 mile run a day and six small meals of good food will do for you!

Morning Run Whoo!

Yesterday was a great success. I woke up and made myself egg whites with feta cheese, at 10 am I had a protein shake, for lunch I hit the gym for a weight workout (which I am FEELING today), then I followed it up with a turkey and cheese sandwich, at 4 pm I had some yogurt. After work I hit up Kroger and picked up eggs, milk, orange juice, cucumber, tomato, romaine lettuce, bread, strawberries, celery and turkey. Came home, did a 2 mile fun run. I decided this week, I will not time a single run. I will just get out there and do 2 miles and enjoy it. No pressure to run a good time. Just a week of solid short runs to get myself back into the grind. I had chicken and pasta for dinner with 2 pieces of chocolate and a glass of milk. Bedtime. Boom.

I felt great this morning. I woke up before the alarm clock! N

ormally, I would have lazed around in bed but I couldn't even doze so I hopped out of bed and threw on running clothes... INCLUDING....

MY BRAND NEW NIKE GLOVES!

Aren't they fantastic? And twelve bucks at the Nike Store in the mall near me (which I would like to LIVE in if possible). I'm sure the people passing me thought I was crazy as I ran down Peachtree in my long sleeved shirt, shorts and gloves but I felt fantastic! My hands were a little warm after a mile but much better than FREEZING like they have been in the past. I am glad I finally bit the bullet since 40 degrees is a little too cold to not have gloves.

I followed up my run with 20 pushups. Okay they weren't the best but they were done. I did them on my feet instead of knees and got them done. I'm hoping to build up to GREAT pushups.

Tell me, what are you excited about this week? I'm excited about my renewed motivation and to be blogging again. I am loving the comments back to me and am enjoying logging everything on dailymile.

Crazy, insane Sex Dream

So I am not someone who EVER remembers their dreams. In fact, I've only remembered three dreams total and two of them actually happened a day later. You can imagine how I felt when the third dream involved me giving birth. So far...it has not happened. I don't think my apartment has enough wood for me to knock on but I'm trying.

Anyway, the other night...ahem, morning, I woke up DRENCHED in sweat and tangled up in my sheets. I was panting like I had just run a half marathon. I felt loose. And relaxed but my heart was racing.

Like I had just had an orgasm.

A really fucking fantastic orgasm at that.

What I had was a damn sleepgasm. I have no idea if that is an actual word or not but I'm using it to describe the orgasm my body apparently had while it dreamt about sex I'm not having.

Strangely enough, it wasn't a dream about anybody I normally fantasize about. It wasn't about anyone I've featured on the blog. It wasn't about anyone REAL. Or if he is real, I haven't met him yet. Also strange, was that he wasn't like any guy I've dated or fantasized about or slept with. Remember when I discussed dating United Colors of Benetton style? Well, this guy definitely fit this profile.

He was tall. Dark skin, hair and eyes. Chiseled. I MEAN CHISELED. I'm an arms girl, myself but in my dream I spent an inordinate amount of time admiring his abs with my eyes, my hands and my mouth. WOW, maybe it's because I've never been with a washboard abs kind of guy but it was HOT in my dream.

The dream was vivid. I could taste the salt on his skin. I could feel the push and pull of his muscles under my fingers and his mouth as it feathered over my skin. And the smell. You know sex has a scent. I could feel the softness of the bed and the sheets. And I remember vividly how hot the sex was. The guy was insatiable which is great since I tend to be the same. There were positions I have never even imagined trying out.

So am I alone here? I keep hoping it will happen again but so far, no dice. I have no idea how it came about but I imagine I'll keep trying to find it again.

You Have To Do Things You Don't Like

My little sister is a competitive swimmer. She specializes in backstroke and travels around the southeast competing against other phenomenal swimmers. One of her teammates is now at UGA swimming for the olympic coach. He has swam against Michael Phelps and traveled to Ireland to compete. My sister would like to do the same.

Unfortunately, my sister is the opposite of me. She is too tiny and struggles to gain weight.

This past weekend she had a meet at the University of Tennessee and she didn't do as well as she hoped. She still made a state cut for an event that she doesn't specialize in and she stayed on top of her best times (side note: they don't know what a pr is. I have to explain it to them every time I go to a meet. It's best times in their world). My mom and I were talking about what she will have to do to get to the next level.

Basically, a lot of things she doesn't like. Eating six meals a day of foods she doesn't like. Stocking up on protein. Drinking shakes throughout the day. Doing extra workouts to strengthen up.

Talk turned to my little brother. He is 24 and finishing up school while working at a sporting goods store. Like me, he is overweight. His blood pressure might as well say, YOU'RE GOING TO DIE ANY DAY NOW. On top of that, Friday, he was diagnosed with Colitis. They've given him a ridiculously high-priced medication and he'll have to adjust his diet. Eat more veggies and fruits. Steer clear of dairy products. No more junk food. In essence, a lot of things he doesn't like.

And a light bulb went on. I may not like what I'm eating. I will not enjoy seeing other people eat junk while I eat fruits, veggies, proteins....while I only eat fist-sized servings and they eat everything in sight. I have to stop comparing my results to others. I am not the same as the skinny bitch eating a large pizza by herself. I am me and it will take something different to get healthy and get to a healthy weight.