One of those weeks

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well, it has been one of those weeks. I woke up happy and in a good place every day, and by the end of the day, I was drained of all things good.

Happiness comes from within…right? So I took today off to get happy again. I’m going to walk 500 a few miles and then have lunch with my girls. And all will be right in the world. Maybe El Jefe and I can catch a movie this afternoon.

Storms are headed this way today, and I’m looking forward to them. I love nature’s hissy fits! Even the scary ones are fun. Weather patterns have always fascinated me. I probably should have been a storm chaser. Or maybe just a weather girl…

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have a great weekend, bitches! And don’t let the mean girls get you down! Life is too short to worry about what other people think of you.

Well, that was fun.

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Yesterday was very draining. I know people have a bad day and have no issues with telling the world, but when you’re a sponge like I am, you soak up the energy around you. And yesterday, the energy around me was pissy. Negative, bitchy, petty and stressful.

And I was in such a good mood when I got to work! UGH.

So I went home, fired up the grill (QUEEN OF THE GRILL!) and became one with my center. Or at least I tried to. Thank the gods El Jefe makes me laugh. Same with Rader. I needed the laughter badly.

Rader offered to pour me “all the wine” last night. hahaha. I had to decline though, since I’m kinda on the wine wagon during the week. (most of the week, anyway. I chose wine over workout on Tuesday since it was storming.) I did some stretches and grilling and then got all the loves from the puppies and kittehs and my personal Fabio… and by the end of the night, I was all better.

And today, I’m rarin’ to go. I’m also in rare form. Look out world…I’ve got my sparkle turned up to 11 and I don’t care if you’re wearing shades or not!

I can be snarky and funny and a smartass, but I’m rarely negative. I enjoy happiness and smiling at people so they will smile back. I may have a rant or two on occasion, but it’s mostly just me being silly. I will say what most of y’all are thinking. I’m awesome like that, you see.

So today, I’m in a good place and I’m not going to allow any of the crabby people crawl into my happiness bubble full of sunshine and butterflies. And unicorns that fart rainbows.

Because EVERYONE wants a rainbow farting unicorn in their life. Duh.

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So…I was making out with Fabio last night…

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Okay. I’m going to give you a rare glimpse inside my brain. You’re welcome.

Last night, I was watching REAL TIME WITH BILL MAHER (btw, my favorite text ever from Rader was when he sent me a picture of Bill Maher and asked “Are you sure he isn’t my real father?”) Anyway, Dan Savage was on and it was one of the funniest episodes I’ve seen in a while. If you get a chance, please watch the 5:48 video just for a laugh and to see a very conservative former republican senator from Florida get very uncomfortable and make the “I smell bad ham” face.

So this is how my brain works. I was thinking that Dan Savage was the guy who did the satire romance novel covers, but he isn’t. I know that now (click that link for a good laugh). But, last night, I went to bed thinking he was that guy and when I think about romance novel covers, I often think of Fabio.

Who wouldn’t, right?

Ribbet collageOkay, so there I am, falling asleep with Fabio on my mind…and suddenly, there he is in my dream.

We’re in the library and there’s a party. And he’s pursuing me. He wants me badly. (I mean, duh!) and he finally pulls me onto his lap in a dark corner and we kiss. And after a few minutes (I had to be SURE) I tell him, “Sorry. This just isn’t working for me.”

And he’s all “I’m Fabio! I work for everyone!”

And I say, “Well, I’m not everyone. And you should learn to kiss better. I don’t have time or desire to teach you.” and I try to get up. But he holds me down and gives me a GIANT HICKEY ON MY CHEST. And then he puts a band-aid on it and says, “You’re branded now. You’re mine.”

I’m pissed. “What are you? 14?” And I dramatically storm off to tell everyone that Fabio gave me a hickey against my will. And everyone tells me I should have been nicer to him. Nobody tells Fabio he doesn’t kiss well, even if it’s true.  He’s FABIO for chissakes!

So yeah. That’s how my brain works. It’s scary, right?

Scary AWESOME.

Fabio

Link

To prove I’m not just a cynical bitch (not that I care if that’s what you think…)

The photos in this article will make you believe in love. I guarantee you these couples aren’t out to prove anything to anyone. Look at them.

Beautiful.

Here are a couple of my favorites (credit Huffington Post):

slide_309016_2709278_freeslide_309016_2709274_free slide_309016_2709295_free slide_309016_2709289_freeThese pictures are beautiful and make me smile.

Real. Genuine. And nothing to prove. *sigh*

I love happy.

stop being so annoying people! she said with a smile…

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BlogFBMistakesAnd yes, if more than one of these things applies to you, then I am talking to you. Directly. This is a Facebook rant. You’ve been warned.

    1. I get it. There’s a Royal Baby. But GeeDee…don’t act like Kate Middleton is the only woman ever to give birth. I mean, I know it seems odd to think about it, but that cheeky wench, Queen Elizabeth? She had babies, too. And so did Diana. And every other royal vagina before them. So stop acting like this baby is the 2nd coming of Christ.
    2. You know those Facebook memes “Like if you hate cancer” or “Like if you think this girl is beautiful” or “Like if you wish pedophiles didn’t exist and if you don’t like we know how you really feel” OMG. Just. Stop. That shit is almost worse than VagueBooking. We all hate cancer. We all think child abuse sucks. We all think the poor girl with a birthmark covering her face is beautiful. What isn’t beautiful is the desperate plea for “likes.”
    3. Also stop doing this: “Repost if you believe in God. I know most of you won’t.” Shut up. Religion is supposed to be personal and PRIVATE. And this latest trend of guilting people into proclaiming their love for god is just plain assholery.
    4. Also, stop doing this: “Let’s see how many of you read my status. I know it’s probably only 4 of you so here goes. Leave a comment with one word describing _________ and then repost this status to your page.” Stop telling me what to do and trying to drum up attention. If you want more comments, be funnier. Or original. Or talk politics, that always gets ’em going.
    5. If you need help deciding what else you grown ups should stop doing on Facebook, read this: 5 Things You Need to Stop Doing on Facebook Right Now. I’d like to call your attention to  “4. Stop communicating with your spouse on Facebook. Have you no conscience? Unless you and your spouse live on opposite sides of the planet—no, even then. Even if you do, you have no excuse to share things on Facebook with the person you’re married to. You should be wishing them a “happy anniversary” privately, instead of uskeepcalming your special day as an excuse to let all your single friends know how much happier you are than them. If you feel suddenly overwhelmed by the need to tell your spouse just how lucky you are to have them in your life, consider whispering this information in their ear instead of co-opting their wall. Open up a damn email and send your spouse a private link to whatever video of an otter playing with a rock is unmissable today. Then post the same video on Facebook if you must. Just don’t mix the two.” I’d like to add that it’s one thing to post a funny to their page or what not. It’s another thing to post pics of y’all making out and spewing cheesy love shit all over a public forum. Probably when you’re sitting right next to each other. Nobody’s buying it. Trust me. It’s obvious you need the world to believe you’re happy and so in love so you’re overcompensating. Those of us who are actually in love, we’re saying those things privately. (and oftentimes, nekkidly.)
    6. VagueBooking. Like I said earlier, if you need attention, then find yourself a personality. Be original. Be funny. But don’t be attention seeking. Example:  “Sometimes it’s just not worth the effort. Sigh.”  Really? What isn’t worth the effort? Breathing? Here’s a pillow. Put it over your face. Is it hard being human? Is it hard being a mom? A dad? Is it hard being pretty every day? WTF are you talking about? And stop with this “Inbox me” crap. Either just come out and play your drama out online or don’t. But stop being an attention-seeking hooker.
    7. If you invite controversy by ending your blanket statement with “I just don’t get it” or “Somebody please explain it to me” and then someone takes an opposite stance of you, remember, YOU INVITED IT. Don’t get pissy because people may disagree with you and don’t feel attacked when you’re the one who started it.

Here are things you can do on Facebook that will make people (and yourself) forever happy.

  1. Be funny
  2. Be original
  3. Don’t take life too seriously. It’s Facebook, not real life
  4. Drunk Facebook (as long as you have a personality and as long as you aren’t one of those whiny drunks)
  5. Have a good time.
  6. Don’t take shit so personally. I use hashtags because I instagram a lot. I have a friend who hates hashtags and bitches about them all the time. Who cares? Good for her. She has the right to her Facebook status and I have the right to my #hashtags.
  7. Hide people who you like but you don’t like their constant updates. I have people who hide me. It’s okay. It’s Facebook, not real life. I hide all my Jesusy Preachy Friends because it’s Facebook, not church. And religion is private. I’m pretty sure Jesus isn’t sitting in Heaven giving people a +1 every time they quote the bible out of context.

There you go. Melf’s helpful hints for a Happier Facebook life. You’re welcome. (RAINBOW STARS….the more you know…)

In Camp Compound Bootay’s Bootyliciousness news: I walked 1.5 miles at lunch yesterday and did 20 minutes of HIIT workout focusing on legs and arms. Then I did 300 different crunches.

Yep. I’m a little sore today. But that’s alright. I kinda like the pain.

to scale or not to scale, that is the question.

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I have decided NOT to scale anymore.

Fuck you, scales. You’re a Liar McLiarpants and I don’t like liars.

tumblr_m7oay3FSlX1rn13nao1_500Seriously? I know muscle weighs more than fat. I know I’m muscular and tend to develop quickly when working out…which is why I’m using low weights/high reps. Not that I’m afraid of bulking up…I’m not. I WANT to build muscle. I need to increase my metabolism and I know I am because I’m waking up starving to death in the mornings.

But my scales are an asshole. Complete and total asshole.

So I’ve decided to stop weighing. Because it does nothing but depress me. Especially since I’ve spent the last 3 weeks doing nothing but journaling my food/calories and working out like a boss and eating and drinking right…and then I weigh and it tells me I’ve gained 4 more pounds.

Go home scales, you’re drunk.

Do you know how hard not weighing is going to be for me?

scale-photoI know that weighing goes back to my dreaded high school years when I kept being “put” on a diet. You know, because being 5’6 with hips and weighing 140 lbs was considered fat in the 80s. They weren’t big fans of the Big Butt, So What school of thought back then.

Anyway, I was expected to weigh in at least once a week. Unfortunately, I start getting weirdly competitive with myself and start weighing daily…I tell myself it’s to keep track of my progress, so I can catch myself gaining again. The problem with that is, I start to obsess. And then I get pissed off when I KNOW I’m doing everything right and the scale refuses to acknowledge my hard work.

I’m going to hide them. Actually, I’m going to give them to El Jefe and tell him to hide them. Somewhere I’ll never look. Probably a good spot would be where we store the dusting supplies, since I never dust.

Fuck you, Scales. I’m so over you. We’re breaking up. I hear Taylor Swift may be looking for a new relationship. If you’re lucky, maybe she’ll write a song about you.

And to end on a happy note, here’s the gratuitous cat picture of the day. Big Baby: He’s such a big baby.

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It’s been 15 days…

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And I’ve done some form of exercise 12/15 days.

For me, this is quite an accomplishment. Seriously.

I realized this morning, as I was getting dressed, that I feel good. Like, REALLY good. And it’s nice to look in the mirror and not hate your body. Because honestly, there is nothing healthy about hate. I used to be obsessed with fixing my body. OMG. My body is not broken! I’m not broken!

There is nothing healthy about obsession, either.

Anyway, back to my realization.

In the not-so-distant past, I worked out to see exterior results. I NEEDED to hear people tell me I looked good. I needed the compliments and to be noticed for all my hard work. But this time, it’s different. I’m finding a beautiful sense of satisfaction on the inside. Knowing I’m working hard and feeling great is all the reward I need right now. I’m doing this for me. I like the compliments, but I don’t NEED them.

There is so much freedom in knowing I’m doing this for myself.

And that’s why, this journey is going to be different from my journeys in the past. I am the only motivation I need.

But you can still tell me I look good. 😉

f6ad3de4f8145a0e096d7f542d5ade93Happy Friday, Bitches! I have Bunko tonight, and I’m totally stoked because I haven’t seen my Babes in a while. You guys have a great weekend, and I’ll see you on Monday.

#RWA13 I miss y’all!

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Here are some pics of the Ghosts of RWA Conferences Past. Me and Maria Geraci in order: Dallas 04, Atlanta 06, Dallas 07

Mel_Maria Dallas

Mel_Maria.ATL 06

07RWA

Then here’s a pic of us in Orlando: 09 (this is actually the RT convention.)

RT09RWA was in DC in 09 and I was there, too. Here’s a link to the most awesome night ever…. Drag Queen Karaoke…

I can’t find a picture of me and Maria together in DC. I know there is one…but, this will have to do as a substitute:

DC 09I miss my people! I vow to attend next year, no matter what. (she says, hoping that her empty wallet and dry writing well will fill up soon…)

In Compound Bootcamp Bootyville news, I rested last night. Will be doing major lower body damage to myself this evening. It will be painful and tomorrow I will be using a walker. With hot pink tennis balls for feet.

To all my friends in Atlanta, I miss you. I’m thinking about you. And if you do Drag Queen Karaoke night…PLEASE SEND ME ALL THE PICTURES! Also, good luck to you, my dear friend Maria! Bring home that RITA and make momma proud!

and she cried more, more, more!

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Just in case you care, here’s a copy of last night’s workout. (I’m combining various HIIT/and muscle specific exercises for a variety of workouts) Also, I’m not a fitness guru, I’m doing this on my own, at my own risk. If you decide to follow my workouts, it’s all on you. I’m just a moron who can’t afford a personal trainer.  You don’t have to be one, too.

Bootyliciousness workout #6

Bootyliciousness workout #6

By the time I was done with this half-hour…I was crying NO MORE! and I was sweating like a cold beer on a hot table.

I’m staying pretty focused and doing well with my daily exercising…I’m sore, but not in pain. I’m sleeping better and I’m pushing myself to do just “one more” and not quitting when my body wants to.

I’m struggling with keeping my core tight and maintaining appropriate posture when I get tired.

But it’s a process. And I’m showing progress, so no complaints here. (other than, FEED ME!!)

So last night…I had a dream about my ass.

Yep. You read that right. I. Had a dream. About my ASS.

I dreamed that I woke up one morning and was getting dressed and looked in the mirror and my ass looked like this:

It ain't gonna spank itself, fellas.

It ain’t gonna spank itself, fellas.

Now you know why I’m doing all those damn squats. I know my ass is never gonna be this size, but if it could be that shape? I’d never keep my hands off my own ass.

Oh well. I’m always going to have a big butt (So WHAT?) and that’s why, this is my motto

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let’s hear it for more, more, more lunges, squats and big ol’ butts that cannot lie!

Operation Bootylicous Workout #5

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I saw this workout on Pinterest yesterday and decided to modify it to fit my needs.

I actually had planned to do the 80 lunges and go into the 70 squats, but that changed when I got to 30 lunges. I’m just not there yet.  Because of the arthritis in my elbows, I have a very hard time with planks and push ups, so I made an adjustment to suit my body.

I did this set twice, and by the end, I was winded and wobbly. The sign of a very good workout! And it was a nice change of pace from what I’ve been doing. You know, I don’t wanna be bored…

Last night, I was ravenous about an hour after the workout. I had eaten a big green salad prior, and had a high protein shake afterward, but apparently my body needed more. Unfortunately, it was 9:00 and I don’t eat that late, so I fixed myself some green and roasted dandelion root tea and toughed it out. However, when I woke up this morning, I made myself a yummy little egg and cheese open-faced sandwich on the Pepperidge farm thin whole wheat bread because my stomach had tried to eat my spine overnight.

Increase in hunger is to be expected when your metabolism is kicking into gear, but sadly, I’m not a runner who is competing and needs to fuel up on as many calories as I burn. I’m a girl who is trying to lose weight, and has to remind herself that the point of exercising is to burn the calories…not to jump into a vat of cheese dip and while eating all the chips just because you exercised…

Hmph.

In other, non-workout and whiny because I’m hungry news: Pearl is up and running again! Ian’s dad helped us out with purchasing a new battery and she seems to be purring like a kitten. She still needs to have some tweaks done to her, so we’ll take her in next week and have her looked at. I drove her today, to make sure she was safe. I don’t want Ian carting the 4 year old he’s babysitting around in Pearl if she’s going to break down again… Looks like we’re a go, for take off! yippee!

Ian and Pearl

Ian and Pearl

Life is good, bitches. Live a genuine life and be happy. Or else I might have to get stabby all up in this place. Don’t be taking shit for granted, ya hear?