I’m Worried

I’m not going to lie: my enthusiasm for getting fit and eating right is waning right now. I’m going to blame all the stress in my life. This whole not-having-a-job-or-a-car-thing is really getting to me. I’m stressed about how to find the right car. I’m stressed that I’ll never find a job I love. Or that I’ll find plenty but I’ll never get hired for them. I’m stressed about my finances since I haven’t had any income for a few weeks. I’m stressed that I won’t lose these last ten pounds. I’m stressed that I’ll actually start gaining weight again.

So many things to worry about, so little time.

This is a chronic problem of mine. I’m a worrier. And, if I don’t have anything to worry about, I make something up.

So whine, whine, whine, whine. That’s what I want to do right now instead of working out. But maybe, because I know it’ll make me feel so much better, I’ll go do one of my favorite quick workouts that I got from my friend Bethany.

10 to 1: Do 10 of each move, then 9, then 8, etc. Taking no breaks means you also get a cardio workout.

• Jumping jacks
• Push-ups
• Squats
• Crunches (or any ab move)
• Squat jumps

Seriously, this workout is a full-body wonder. You’ll be sore and tired but the more you do it, the more you can do. I’ve actually upped this workout to 15 to 1 before. It killed me. In a good way. (Aka I took a step down my front porch after a 15 to 1 workout and I almost went sprawling to my death because my legs were SO tired and jello-y.)

Wow, just writing this post already made me feel better. 10 to 1, here I come!

The Importance of the Workout Buddy

Some people can, and love to, work out on their own. I am not one of these people. I was in school sports from 8th grade through my sophomore year of college. After I quit college track (shin splints), I played games and ran around with a couple of guy friends who’d also quit track. After college I worked out regularly with my friend M’Leigh, and sometimes my apartment building buddy *Brad. M’Leigh and I would laugh and chat, making our workouts more like social time. We didn’t even notice that we were working out anymore – and yet we totally ran those five miles just now.

Well, the time has come again! I found two workout buddies. One, my brother, has been trying to get me to go to the gym with him for a long time. He even got me my sweet gym membership deal a looooong time ago. But I just wouldn’t ever go. I didn’t want to lift weights like he was, and I hated wandering the busy gym alone. It was scary. Well, now that I’ve been working out pretty regularly all month, and attending classes at my gym, I’m not so scared. And I do actually want to do the workouts my brother is doing. The other buddy is my friend Sam. I convinced her to join Gold’s Gym but she got a level above me and consistently goes to a gym that is in that level – meaning she could workout with me at MY gym but I couldn’t workout with her gym.

Well, it was “bring a friend” week last week so I tried out her (crazy aerobic) Zumba class and came to the realization that her gym was way lamer than mine – but it cost more money. The next week she finally came to my gym for a random class (something called Body Jam with some super fun instructors – it was reminiscent of Zumba) and she, too, realized how much nicer my gym was. So I think I finally converted her! She’ll be going to her gym for Zumba with her fave instructor, but I think I can get her to join me for classes and the like more often. Yay!

Sam and I after an intense Zumba sesh at her Gold’s gym.

I have also gone to two Camp Gladiator workouts with my friend Bethany. Even if we don’t partner up for buddy-exercises at the camp, just arriving together is enough. And leaving together, high on endorphins, ready to devour some sammiches. That’s my kind of buddy system.

Speaking of workout buddies, my bro is headed to the gym now so I think I have to get off my lazy bum and go join him. Yaaay…..

BOOTS!!!!!!

So, the following is a blog post from an old blog of mine. I was copying hyperboleandahalf’s style because I have some hilarious childhood stories to share – and these pictures really do seem to help. So, this is just a goofy bonus post for you. I LOVE these cartoons that I made. Maybe I’ll make some more in the future. I have maybe three more completed ones from my old blog that I’ll randomly share here. For fun. Enjoy.

(Originally posted October 2010.) “I get a little dramatic sometimes.

And for a girl who once calmly watched one of her kittens slowly die after it was bit by my dog when she was a child, I have crazy reactions and feelings about my animals, especially if I believe harm will befall them.

In 8th grade I had a black and white cat named Boots. I named him after a large TY stuffed cat he looked just like. [A little backwards?]

One day I opened the garage door for something. Then I closed it.

Boots was loitering at the garage door entrance, right where the door was going to close. I told him to get out.

I went into the house and ran outside to make sure boots moved. I didn’t trust his English comprehension.

When I rounded the corner of the house I saw Boots HADN’T moved and was just laying there under the garage door that began closing on him.

I screamed, “BOOTS!!!”

And with a crazy surge of adrenaline I grabbed the garage door handle and yanked up as hard as my adrenaline-packed muscles could.

I was able to yank the garage door up and off Boots. I grabbed him and held him tight, like a mother who had almost lost her baby. I was a bit shaky after the ordeal.

Boots didn’t even know what was going on.

Later that day I journaled about the experience

.

9/17/00

“Today I went to church. I was very crabby because I went to bed at 12:00 P.M. [sic] and woke up at 7:00 A.M.

I had the scare of a life-time today! I had opened the garage to get something. Boots was laying by it. Then I shut it & ran out to see if Boots was in the way. And the garage door begun [sic] to squish him. I couldn’t even think! I screamed, ‘Boots!!’ And I grabbed the garge [sic] handle & yanked up, hard. The garage went up a foot & stopped. Boots got out. I was shaking so much. I just held Boots for 3 minutes. I had been so scared. I thought for sure Boots was going to be crushed. Part of his body was in & part was out when it was closing. He’s OK, though. I think I was more scared then [sic] he was because I knew what could happen to him & he didn’t.

My cow pillow (which I got for my 8th or 9th birthday) is in the wash so it’s kind of uncomfortable.

For the past few days it’s been raining alot [sic] & our backyard is FLOODED with these tall, skinny flowers.

If you pull firm, gentle, & hard enough, you’ll get the whole flower. Even the white part at the end. I feel like crying now, thinking back to how Boots looked. I didn’t have time to cry at the time. I just had to think fast. I don’t know what……..

Oh I just can’t think about it! Bye.

Alicia Foley (still trying to figure out my signature)”

And that is the saga of when my cat was almost crushed by the garage door.”

Kind of a big deal…

Some choices I made tonight show growth – and since it’s related to diet, I feel it’s a big deal! Today is my younger (the middle) brother’s birthday. So we went out to dinner. For lunch I had a (footlong) Subway sandwich (not awful, not great). I walked some dogs for my boss and then I had to run to the grocery store before we went out. I got a good selection of tasty and pretty much healthy (or at least WAY healthier than I was eating a month ago) food stuffs. I was kind of hungry when I got my groceries to the car and I knew I’d be STARVING at dinner if I didn’t eat something before – and starving at a restaurant for me means absolutely no self control. What. So. Ever. So I grabbed one of my little bottles of chocolate milk (that I buy for post-working out) and a package of fresh blueberries. And I snacked on those two things on the way home. 

Once we got to dinner, I ate soup and salad. They weren’t the healthiest (potato soup and my salad had chipotle ranch dressing, croutons, and cheese) BUT I think they are way fewer calories than I would have eaten otherwise. I did have some of the bread and a chip or two with dip. But all tiny quantities. And I did have a slice of birthday cake.

BUT, the point is that, overall, this kind of day is way better than what I have previously been doing. And all it takes is some planning and having healthy snacks handy. (I bought snacks at the grocery store today because I’ve been struggling with a lack of them over the past week – made some bad food choices because I didn’t have something good to satiate me in the moment.)

So, it’s very small in the grand scheme of things, but to me it’s a huge improvement! YAY! Salad! (I hate lettuce. I wish the salad had been spinach. Spinach is wonderful. Dumb lettuce. Crunchy water. That’s all you are.)

Catching Up

What is up, my homies?

So many good things are happening! Ok, so I’ve had some ups and downs the past couple of weeks. I made out TWICE with the boy who most recently rejected me. ONE DAY after the last time I made out with him, Jeremy, Corbin called me up to hang out and I got drunk and made out with HIM! And then I wanted him, bad. He’s the closest I have ever come to having someone like me back and want to date me. And he’s so sexy. (TALL. Cute butt in dem jeans.) So I was pining away after Corbin, allowing me to get over Jeremy…then I got over Corbin. SO, I’m currently on track! I have not been on a date this year. I have kissed two boys who I have previously gone out with. I had some minor pining over each of them – but I am good and moving on! BOOM!

Then my mother and my brother helped me go through my one-bedroom-apartment’s worth of stuff in the garage (since it weirdly won’t fit into the single bedroom that I currently call my own) and I got rid of so much shizz! I still have a few boxes to go through, including my room, but I am on a ROLE. When things have been stashed away in boxes for five years (and in another state for three), it’s really easy to disassociate feelings with things and just get rid of it all. It was fun to rifle through some things from my first post-college job. (My first real job – out of the only two I’ve had.) I found lots of pretty doodles I’d done during meetings, lots of hilarious quotes from coworkers that I’d written down, cute little notes from coworkers and the like. I found sweet gems I’d forgotten I had. And it made me super excited to FREAKIN’ GET MY OWN PLACE so’s I can put up all my framed pictures, art, etc! My place is going to be so fun looking. So ME. Though, how could it look any other way. Decluttering isn’t just good for your home/storage space, it’s good for the soul. I feel like I’ve sloughed off some layers of dead skin. 

Last week I spent a day with one of my best friends, Sam. We went shopping (I bought nothing because I’m unemployed), we watched a little Grey’s Anatomy, we did some Zumba (with the perkiest male Zumba instructor ever – a first for me), and then we PAINTED! I hadn’t painted (anything besides walls – personal walls and work walls) since I lived in Nebraska (read: nearly five years ago) but it was a great experience. I painted flamingos (of course). One of them came out kind of derpy, the first one I painted, but the other one looked nice. I found a photograph online of some flams and just copied that. 

My favorite part is the shadows. Now, I know this is very elementary, so no judging. It was painted just for fun. 🙂

I’m working out! I did a bunch of lifting with my “little” bro yesterday. My 10 pound weights looked ridiculously small next to the 85 pounders he was using, but since he’s my bro, I didn’t feel even a little intimidated. And since I was in the gym working out with such a beast, the gym itself didn’t intimidate me. Ever since my two Zumba classes, I already feel less intimidated by my gym. I also know my gym is a really good one, after doing Zumba at my friend’s (more expensive) gym. Mine is way better. (Both are Gold’s but her’s is a former-Spectrum/Ruby Level. Mine is just Gold Level.) So I plan on using my brother as a free trainer. He’s very motivating. No bullshit. When I whine about how heavy the weight is or that I want to stop, he just yells at me. Because he can. And I listen, while continuing to whine, because I can. 

Ok, related to the working out- I got weighed this morning at the doctor’s office, pre-eating, and it was high, my friends. I knew I’d gained a bunch of weight since I needed bigger pants, but putting a number on it just was a real slap to the face. My average weight, when being active and/or working an active, full-time job, is between 135 and 140. I’m very used to 135 being my goal weight to stay at. 137 at the most. Well, over the past couple of weeks, thanks to working out, better diet, and loss of appetite due to illness, I have lost a few pounds. When I was weighed this morning, I was 146. That means I was at LEAST 150 at my heaviest. Maybe more. People. I have never weighed 150. EVER. I really let myself go. I started this blog and renewed my workout initiative JUST. IN. TIME. Almost twenty pounds?! That’s like a pregnant lady. I did not have a child. This is inexcusable. And I know all that weight was bad. It was not muscle. I was getting weaker by the minute. It was all flab. All fast food. All crap. Dang, son. Dang. 

Tonight I’m finally going to Camp Gladiator. My other best friend got me a month of Camp Gladiator for Christmas, and it’s only good for January. Well, the first week I was able to go, I got sick. Stuck-in-bed sick. Last week I didn’t have car access very much. I’m still sharing with my family, so I use it whenever I can. But it’s rare. This week I have car access so I finally get to go! But that means I only got to use 2 out of 4 weeks of my gift. BOOOO. It was out of our control – neither of us saw my loss of car/illness coming, but still. It’s annoying. I don’t want to waste such an excellent gift. 

Yesterday evening I went to a birthday party for a two-year old. I wouldn’t have missed it because I love this kid and his family. And I don’t actually feel awkward being the only single/child-less attendee, but I always wonder what the other adults (who all come with a spouse and at least one child) are thinking. Of course, when they find out that the kids’ mom and I went to college and have known each other for almost a decade (I just realized today that it really has been that long. I met Lauren my freshman year, which started in 2005), they’re like, “Ohhh, ok. I thought maybe you were a neighbor.” Because, how else could I know Lauren if I don’t have children? How could we have ever met? What in the world do we have in common? Lots, dang it! We ran track together, we’re both Lutheran. Whatever. I do have fun at these kids’ parties, though. I mean, I love the kiddos and the adults that come are very fun, too. But I definitely stick out without a husband by my side and a kid on my hip. Suck it. Children love me.

I’ve been procrastinating on my Ornithology reading. The feathers chapter is daunting because I remember how hard it was for me to read two years ago – even though what I’ve read so far isn’t intimidating – and my mom has a three-day weekend so she keeps dragging me around to do things. Plus I’ve just been lazy. No excuses! 

Well, tonight is a busy one. I’m walking/feeding dogs for my part-time boss, hopefully doing Camp Gladiator with a best friend, and then my social volleyball team has a game at nearly 10 pm. Woop! Unemployed but still busy! Love it.

The Birds and the Beatles

Back in 2004, I discovered the Beatles. Not sure how I made it to almost 18 before really knowing who they were, but I did. I grew up listening to oldies – but you know how oldies stations are aimed at older people who already know who sings what? Well, yeah. They never announced who sang the song they just played. So I grew up knowing all this music from the 50s-70s and never knowing band/singer names. Well, I’m not sure how I stumbled upon this, but one day I realized that this one group, The f*&#%$@ Beatles, sang a bunch of songs that I liked. So I started looking into them. I found that no matter which album I bought or which “new” songs I found, I loved them all. There wasn’t anything I hated (except for the Long & Winding Road. Sorry, Paul. Ok, that’s not the only one. But it is SO rare for me to dislike a Beatles song. That’s the point.) I can listen to entire albums without skipping songs! (Ok, I skip Revolution 9, too.) ANYWAY, I was so obsessed that the only music I listened to was by The Beatles. I read huge biographies about The Beatles. I watched Youtube videos of their performances and concerts. I became a crazy fangirl. Like, BIG TIME. But no one else cared. I mean, yeah, I ran into a few Beatlephiles (is that what they’re called? Someone called me that once.) But most of the people I hung out with on a regular basis got really tired of my “fun Beatle facts” and listening to all my Beatles CDs preeeeeetty quickly. So my obsession died a little. Because I had no one to share with. 

Now, the Beatles are still my favorite band and I LOVE PAUL WITH ALL MY HEART (I saw him in concert in Houston in 2012!!!!) but it’s not even close to the obsession I once had.

Yesterday, I went bird crazy. I was reading my Ornithology textbook and doing some extra online research. My book is from the 90s and DNA sytematics for bird grouping has come a long way since this book was published. So I started learning a bunch of awesome new stuff and posting it all over Facebook. I’m pretty sure one person read the stuff I posted. No one cares! I always get really into something (I have OCD and a huge part of that is obsessive thoughts – usually bad ones – but I find that I tend to get head-over-heels for random stuff, too) and it’s always something no one around me cares about. 

Luckily that doesn’t stop me. I’m hoping this current obsession will help me in my career pursuits (bird keeper!!!). So I’m going to learn all I can. I will post all that shiz to Facebook and Twitter…and if no one reads it or cares, so what. (I WILL MAKE YOU LOVE IT.)

PS: My cat is currently SNORING. 

PPS: I find my post title to be insanely witty. Just me? Ok. 

Endearingly Homo

One time I was hanging out at Steve’s apartment and, as we were parting ways, I slipped on a fake mustache. I have no clue where I got it from or why I had it, but I thought it would be funny to say goodbye wearing it. 

Well, Steve kissed me goodbye despite the ‘stache, which I thought was a very cute thing to do. Later, we were texting while I was hanging out with some girl friends, and I jokingly called him “homo” for kissing me while wearing a mustache. I didn’t mean anything by it, I had actually thought it was super cute when he did it. I was just joking around.

Well, let me tell you what. Steve got pissed. I’m not a politically correct person – I try. Sort of. But obviously I fail. Steve was always getting offended by things I said. And almost none of them were even directed at him – except this time. Apparently I’m a horribly offensive person. Steve will tell you, for sure. 

So, Steve was pissed at me. And I had no clue what to do because I thought it was just playful banter, on my end. We text-fought (which is the worst kind because you can never tell tone via texting) and he said how dare I make jokes about his sexuality when I have none of my own (read: you’re a virgin so don’t call me homo). At that time, that was the meanest thing anyone had ever said to me. (Steve was the one to say more mean things to me in the future- he was a little verbally abusive.) Steve fights dirty. I know that I did really dumb things when we were seeing each other – he was the first guy I ever “went out with,” he was the first guy I ever kissed. I was learning everything with him. I made a lot of mistakes. But they were missteps. Nothing was intentional. His mean words were always very deliberate and he used your insecurities and things you didn’t like about yourself to really hurt you. I should say “me.” He seemed to have a very successful relationship with a coworker of ours after we parted ways for good. 

Anyway, either as a make-up gesture for this particular fight, or another one (we fought ALL. THE. TIME.) I dropped off a bouquet of Blow Pops on his doorstep with a note saying (again in good fun) “Sorry these aren’t blow jobs.” And I pissed him off again! Because I joked about sex! Which I wasn’t having with him! (And he was also never my boyfriend, so why should I sleep with him? Hello!)

Man, I’d forgotten just how messed up that experience was. No wonder I can’t seem to have a functional relationship with a guy. Haha. I learned some crappy dating lessons from Steve. Like “don’t be yourself.” And “never joke about anything.” Steve was the worst.

Good times.