Does anyone have any idea where that phrase came from? I don’t. And I say it all the time.
Perplexing. Continue reading
lord love a duck
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Tag Archives: health
I’m pissed. I’m fired up. And I’m on a mission.
We don’t have a government. We have a bunch of pissed off toddlers throwing a goddamned tantrum for not getting their way in the grocery store.
I’m angry. I am so disgusted and disappointed in and ashamed of our elected officials that I can’t even describe it. And the most infuriating part of it all? Sure they’ll shut down the government to try to bully people into doing what they want, but are THEY going without pay? Fuck no. Of course not. Continue reading
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sorry I’ve been quiet this week
I just haven’t felt like blogging. I’ve been busy with life. Had food poisoning on Monday. Then an allergic reaction to SOMETHING UNKNOWN ( I did NOT swallow a spider in my sleep, STOP SAYING THAT!) on Tuesday and then hair day, then pedicures with Ian, then birthday cupcakes and wine with friends and now…it’s Friday.
So check out the horror that I woke up to in the mirror Tuesday morning:
kiss me again….
Yeah…um, I have luscious lips but….THIS IS OUT OF CONTROL. I did NOT get collagen and El Jefe did not smack me around (even though I never listen and I totally didn’t make him a sandwich) I just woke up with swolled-up lips. And face. I looked horrific. And as you can see, I had a sad all day.
I took 150 mgs of Benadryl throughout the day on Tuesday and finally, after a full day of being comatose, my lips look less like road kill and more like Angelina Jolie…
In fun news, I was told yesterday that my ass looked awesome in the jeans I will now never take off.
I ordered Turbo Fire videos from Beach Body (the same group that does Insanity and P90X). I need to add something to my bootycamp workouts (which are obviously working even though I haven’t lost any weight, see ass comment above for proof). And now to the reason I haven’t lost weight…
I’m eating too few calories…and then I give up and over eat for a few days, then I eat too few calories.
I cannot do that to myself anymore. I have to change my mindset. I have to fuel my body for the amount of exercising I have been doing. I cannot starve my body and not expect it to go into survival mode and refuse to give up its stored up energy. The 80s & 90s diet mentality that was drilled into my head as a kid is wrong. And I have to freaking retrain my brain.
Speaking of...this article... it choked me up. I was that girl. I was the athlete who was happy with her muscles and curves until her coach and her parents made her feel bad about herself. I was PUT on a diet at 13 years old. Who does that to a kid?
There are some things I miss about the 80s, but that is NOT one of them. BTW, I don’t blame my parents, they didn’t know any better. They did what they thought was right by their daughter. But I do blame my coaches and the doctors and my weightloss consultants who wrongly informed the world that a 13 year old curvy and muscular teen was unhealthy and needed to lose weight because of her body shape. Shame on them.
If you don’t click the link read the whole article (which you should because it really is well written and poignant), here is the last 2 paragraphs that really spoke to me.
I am sorry because many of you walked in healthy and walked out with disordered eating, disordered body image, and the feeling that you were a “failure.” None of you ever failed. Ever. I failed you. The weight loss company failed you.Our society is failing you.
Just eat food. Eat real food, be active, and live your life. Forget all the diet and weight loss nonsense. It’s really just that. Nonsense.
Eat real food, be active and live your life.
I’m going to add “and choose happiness” to that line and live it. Be good to yourself, bitches! Have a great weekend.
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Careful Francis! You’re ruffling some vestments!
I’m not Catholic, but I was married into a Catholic family for almost 20 years so I have a pretty good grasp of Catholicism. Also, my kid goes to a catholic high school… I knew this pope was different when he took my name. We made a deal, you see. And so far, he’s holding up to his end of the bargain.
Back in June, he donned his tiara and said: ‘”The lord has redeemed all of us, not just Catholics, even the atheists,”
Which is awful cool of him. Honestly. You know that behind the scenes, the dudes in charge all had puckered assholes. WTF did he say? He can’t be telling everyone they can be redeemed! Hell! We’ve made several lifetimes of money based on guilt and exclusivity. So they had a meeting and he took it back. Sort of.
But this week? Oh the pope made me proud he took my name. “If someone is gay and he searches for the Lord and has good will, who am I to judge?”
“It’s funny, it’s just like politics,” Maher continued. “The hierarchy at the Vatican was like ‘What the fuck did this guy just say?’ You could almost see them preparing the poison. ‘Luckily we’ve got a spare pope!’” (said in reference to even atheists can be redeemed. But NOW that the Pope is damn near flying his rainbow flag high, I think that Maher’s statement is even more applicable!)
Here’s the thing. “Who am I to judge?” should just be EVERYONE’S tagline. I’m just proud this catholic political leader is the first of his kind to say it. Out loud.
Who are we to judge anyone?
We are human. We are fallible. We make mistakes. There may or may not be eternal damnation or celebration waiting for us if we fuck up too much then die. But, as humans, who are we to judge anyone? I thought that was the whole point of that one verse in the Bible…
Matthew 7: 1-5
1 Judge not, that ye be not judged.
2 For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.
3 And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?
4 Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye?
5 Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye.
Not that I care one way or the other what you do, because it’s not my business. But those who are all in a tizzy about Pope Francis sticking to the Bible he preaches…maybe they should revisit that very same bible…
RAPID TOPIC CHANGE
Oh my bootay hurts! In Operation Bootylicious news, yesterday I walked a total of 4.5 miles. It was a good day, but damn my butt muscles are sore! It wasn’t too terribly long ago that I was walking 4-5 miles a day, 5 days a week. Whew. I’ve got a ways to go before I’m back to that. But I’m well on my way to success. I love the way my clothes are fitting me, so I just gotta keep plugging along.
Metaphorically throwing away the scale has made a difference in my attitude.
If it’s not raining at lunch, I’ll be doing my daily walk with Marissa. If it is…well, I’ll just take that as a sign from the Bootay Gods that I needed a day of rest.
Tonight I have supper club with my girls. I can’t wait! I’m cooking the main dish: Shrimp Primavera. And it’s gonna be EFFING AWESOME.
fuck. yeah.
hahaha.
Have a happy Twofer Tuesday, Bitches!
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One of those weeks
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…
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.
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to scale or not to scale, that is the question.
I have decided NOT to scale anymore.
Fuck you, scales. You’re a Liar McLiarpants and I don’t like liars.
Seriously? 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?
I 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…
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. 😉
Happy 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.
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and she cried more, more, more!
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
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.
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
let’s hear it for more, more, more lunges, squats and big ol’ butts that cannot lie!
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Operation Bootylicous Workout #5
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
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?
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When a woman of substance becomes one with her substance
OMG y’all! I did yoga on Saturday. Well, I did “yoga”. It wasn’t exactly pretty, but it wasn’t a total fail either.
I’m obviously so at peace. Right? (Helpful hint #1) fresh pedicures are very important for yoga, otherwise you may or may not obsess about your gross, callused, bootcamp feet the whole time… )
OK. So my friends Crystal and Charity (the twins) both attend this class and they volunteered to be my photag for this adventure. They did a fabulous job. But let me go on record to say that the ‘close up’ picture of the above shot WILL NEVER BE SEEN IN PUBLIC. I kinda look like a beached manatee. So sexy. And I know the purpose of yoga is to free your mind of the external bullshit and love yourself and your body…but trust me when I say, if I look at that close up too much, there will never be any yoga ever again in my future.
See that adorable pixie in the blue yoga pants? That’s Brandi Soucy. She was our instructor. She’s amazingly gentle and adorable. And so bloody flexible!
I believe it was at about this point I said “AM I SUPPOSED TO BE SWEATING LIKE THIS? WE’RE JUST STANDING HERE!” apparently the answer is yes. Yes, you sweat in yoga.
Here I am with Charity (left) and Crystal (right). Yes. I’m talking about the actual women, not my boobs.
However, they seemed to be very impressed with the girls. I have to brag, I did NOT suffocate during downward dog and that makes me very happy. I strapped my girls in very well.
Sweet Brandi! I think I’m going to attend class again. I may try to do 2 classes a month for a while. I’d like to do it weekly, but I’m just not ready for that yet.
My experience was amazing. And let me just add, that two hour nap I took afterward? It was like a coma.
Thank you ladies for a fantastic experience and for not making me feel like a manatee out of water!
Bitchin' Fiction: Musings by author Melissa McKenzie / Melissa Francis 