Ten Years

What is wrong with me? I post “why I’ve been blogging less but oh don’t worry I’ll still be around!!!”…then I run away. I suck.

I thought the internet was lacking in a sentimental post so here I am to save the day and make all the readers in the place with style and grace…cringe. In the spring of 2004, I was in 8th grade. Throughout grade school I played field hockey (fall), basketball (winter), softball (spring). I mostly did it because my friends did it and I had (still have?) FOMO- fear of missing out. Softball was far and away my least favorite, so I finally decided to ~live for me~ and quit so I could enjoy the remaining of my 8th grade days because I assumed life would be SUPER stressful in omg high school. I think I announced my retirement in a dramatic AIM away message. Maybe with Something Corporate lyrics.

Suddenly I had hours free! So much spare time! It was wonderful….and it jumpstarted the problem I’d have for the next decade. Too much spare time, nothing to do, so I started eating. I ballooned. I’d always been tall for my age, but by 8th grade, everyone had grown and I had stopped. At 5’2 (maybe 5’3 if you’re in a generous kind of mood). I graduated as the 11th shortest girl (I commemorated this in my diary so that’s how you know it rocked me to my core) and undeniably a little bit bigger. I remember my mom asking me once “You’re eating again? Are you sure? There’s a pool party coming up.” I was like “What? Yes I am hungry. I’ll be ready for the pool party, GEEZ MOM.” Lo and behold, a few weeks later, I wasn’t ready for that pool party. I didn’t go in the pool. I wore a two piece but never took my cover-up off. When my friends went in the pool, I sat or went to the bathroom to pretend to fix my hair or something.

I quit softball and filled my spare time with mindless snacking. A habit I have yet to break.

It’s hard to accept that it’s been ten years since that spring. I’ve written over and over in lengthy, painful, rambling posts about how I feel my weight and eating habits have held me back. It’s sobering to realize that a whole decade passed where I hated my body, ate more because I hated my body, and yet I didn’t have “it” to change. “It” meaning: the willpower, the mental fortitude, the knowledge of nutrition or how my body worked, the desire to learn all that, etc. I was miserable for so long about how my body looked so I’d eat to cheer myself up after a dismal shopping trip with my mom when I wanted to wear cute, stylish clothes that hugged my body and instead went with flimsy, flowy blouses or to fill a void when I saw my friends in relationships. Whatever. The list and the drama can go on (and probably does in multiple posts on this blog).

I’ve officially been blogging about my grand weight loss attempt for a year. I’ve done really well, then let myself have a reward “just one cheat day” on a Saturday which turned into a Sunday resolve of “ehhh just make it a cheat WEEKEND” that turned into eating poorly on Monday and Tuesday, but I couldn’t re-start healthy eating and living on a Wednesday! That was dumb! So NEXT MONDAY it would begin! Or when I didn’t feel like prepping healthy meals, figuring out what groceries I needed and then actually grocery shopping.

I’ve re-started with the resolve, then stopped, then taken forever to re-start again so many times over the past year. This particular winter has been brutal when I just couldn’t make myself get up to go to the gym and so hibernated in my house binging because it was too cold! The last week has been better, and I realize NOW that I really can’t let myself off the hook too much with “cheat days” because otherwise it just turns into one big, binge-y freefall. Should it have taken me so embarrassingly long? Probably not.

The last year has been one of so much learning, so much stopping, and eventually re-starting. All that matters is the re-start happens and I’m a lot more motivated than ever. Realizing it’s been a DECADE like this helps. Turning 25 in May helps.

It’s been 10 years but it won’t make it to my favorite number 11 🙂

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Why I’ve Been Blogging Less

Right. hello.

Life has been busier than usual round these parts but you are probably still busier. I try not to post about how OMG STRESSED AND BUSY AND CRAZAAAYY life is ever (it’s usually not) because I remember from Queen Mindy Kaling’s book where she says “A note about me: I do not think stress is a legitimate topic of conversation, in public anyway. No one ever wants to hear how stressed out anyone else is, because most of the time EVERYONE IS STRESSED OUT. Going on and on in detail about how stressed how I am isn’t conversation. It’ll never lead anywhere. No one is going to say, “Wow, Mindy, you really have it ESPECIALLY bad. I have heard some stories of stress but this just TAKES THE CAKE.”

I read that and was like hell ya! This applies to me. So now I try not to whine about how tired (okay I fail at that one a lot), busy, stressed, whatev I am because….that quote. I love it. So I try to shut up.

This is obviously not me shutting up. And if you ever want tips on how to kill a blog, seek out yours truly. I’m the worst. BUT I can’t deny that it is kind of a success.

….I never presume anyone notices or further, cares, but it makes me cringe and feel bad when I see the blog name in the search terms section of blog stats. Oh and yes some version “I’m fat and hate myself” always makes an appearance in the search terms.  What a legacy I’m carving out.  So here I am about to fumble through an explanation that will probably make sense to a party of one Caitlyn but I feel compelled to try.

I’m trying to get out behind my computer more. I loooooove the Internet and can easily spend hours lost skimming in forums. Example, a few months ago I found Make-up Alley. I spent at least four straight days just browsing and reading reviews and then throwing things on my Amazon wishlist. A make-up artist I will probably never be but I like to imagine that I could someday be the girl who easily blends eyeshadows together to make eyes pop because that would be fun or be the girl who knows how to apply concealer juuuuust right, instead of just smearing it on my face and hoping for generously bad lighting all day like I do now. Hence why the zillion eyeshadow palettes, concealer jars, contouring brushes, are still sitting on my wishlists. Snort.

In the spring I had all these grand dreams for growing the blog but then I soured on them and realized I honestly didn’t care about growing it because I like it as it is and I hate change. In the fall I realized it was stupid how much time I spent cooped up in my room on the internet. I moved to a city like I always wanted to…and I would (still do) spend all my spare time in my room. No one is on their death bed and thinks “Sheesh if only I wasted more time on the internet.” Thus I am trying to cut down on my Internet time. Where I am at now is…I don’t know what to do with myself (this does not apply to recent, busier time). If you know of any “pathetic life” awards feel free to nominate me. I don’t really have any hobbies beside reading (which I am doing even more of) and reality tv. Over the winter months when I also could pinpoint the weather for being in my house all the time like a shut-in, I on-line browsed (and sometimes purchased) all the time. I’ve developed a new love for candles through all my yankee candle browsing.

I’m trying to cook/bake more because…adulthood.. but I really hate it. Really, really, really hate it. It makes me so anxious and I don’t know why. The other day I was baking bars and my hands were trembling the whole time and when the bars were finally cut and put away, I just felt such relief. ‘Twas bizarre.  I do more work-out DVDs. I still don’t clean my room.

So one of the things that has fallen by the wayside is blogging. I don’t put any pressure on myself to churn out “content” (like I used to in the spring) or creating graphics for pinterest (although I admire and happily pin yours and others). Maybe another reason is because I do all that at work?

This isn’t a goodbye or anything. I’m not quitting and I’ll still blog but I just wanted to try and explain the lack of consistent posts and blog reading/commenting. Soo I’m still here, always ready to rant and ramble, anddddd doesn’t mean I love ya any less 😉

 

 

It’s The Freaking Weekend

…..I love them so much, yet they are one of my roadblocks in getting fit.

So I used to struggle with eating healthily during all days of the week but the work week was really hard. Preparation is not my thing. Thinking ahead? Nope. Never has been my style. I wouldn’t pack enough food and I’d get hunger headaches and slump around the office for hours that felt endless or I would just get Skittles and an Almond Joy bar from the vending machine.

I’m finally, finally, finally getting better at eating healthy doing the week. I plan out all my meals and get ‘er done. But now, the weekends. Suddenly I’m 100 times worse on the weekends than I ever was during the work week.

I know that the problem is too much free time, which makes me laugh because I love the weekends for that very reason.

On weekends I really just…have nothing to do. So I eat. It’s something to do. And what I eat on the weekends, I guarantee, is never healthy. It’s always a “bad” food choice and it’s always a LOT of it. I know binge-eating is one of my problems. I know I’m eating because I’m bored, but I can’t seem to talk myself out of it. I knew it was a bigger problem than I thought it was when I woke up last Saturday morning and thought “Oooh. I can go to CVS and buy some unhealthy snack to eat today. My roommates are still asleep so they won’t see me come back into the house with it.” A low point. I’m planning on sneaking back in with junk food, like I’m smuggling drugs. I didn’t want to be caught and I didn’t want to feel ashamed. Way to be, self. Way.to.be. That’s also another alarming facet – that I willingly leave my house to buy bad food. And I don’t talk myself out of it for the 2 blocks that it takes to walk there.

It’s a problem, and I know this. I know it when I’m shoving food down my throat and I feel worse afterward, but then the next weekend rolls around, and lo and behold, there’s bored Caitlyn. I don’t talk myself out of it because I want to do it and I declare that “I’ll burn it off!!! I’ll work-out extra hard!!”

The obvious solution seems to be – well, don’t be bored. Get a hobby moron. Do something. I already read a lot but even I can’t do that for however many waking hours I have.  I need a lot of alone time but maybe too much is too much on the weekends? Last year I used to go to the mall a lot, but this year I am on a girl on a budget. And it’s cold. I thought about going for a run a time or two, but then I’m all “Um well I don’t know where to run so that’s out.” I’ve lived here a year and a half now, and I still don’t know any running or walking routes.

It’s a low point and I’m just…over it. Over constantly putting myself in these positions and giving in and not overcoming. I’m so over figuring one thing out (like healthy eating during the work day) and then another thing comes popping up worse than before. Blah. I know this is all me and I’m forever writing posts like “wah I know it’s my fault but it’s hard and I can’t figure it out and I keep doing it”. I know.  That’s about all I have to whine about today.

The Way I Think

Hey. Thanks so so much for all your comments on my last post. Sometimes I wonder why I blog, then I read other peoples blogs, comments on other peoples blogs, comments on my own blog, and…I remember exactly why. To hear I’m not alone. I love social media and I also hate it because seeing everyone’s statuses squealing about getting promotions or getting the coolest job ever, Instagram pictures that feature the hashtag “#engaged” and whatever, gets me reallll down in the dumps. Don’t get me wrong, I am happy for everyone and when I comment ‘congrats! happy for you!’ I mean it (most times), but sheesh, I hate that their happiness/success makes me feel like shit about myself. I feel angry and saddened that (it appears) everyone is moving forward yet I am like a hamster on the wheel that never gets anywhere, forever chilling on the very bottom. Being grateful every day is not something that comes easily to me. Neither does self-acceptance (believe me we know, think longtime readers of this blog).

I was thinking today about how I always dwell on all the things that I’m not and all the things I don’t have, instead of all the things that I am and all the things that I do have. What brought this revelation on was when I was at the mechanic/neighbors picking up our plentiful packages [oh the holiday season], and one of the mechanics said to me, “I thought you should know that when your package came today, as so-and-so signed for it, he said ‘Oh good, that means Caitlyn will come by today.’ We all look forward to your appearances because you make us laugh.” I was so stunned/touched by this, I think I stuttered a thank you, resorted to my standby self-deprecating humor bout how that’s the first time I ever heard somebody say they were looking forward to seeing me, we all laughed, I walked away smiling and hadn’t stopped smiling since. Whenever I’m at the neighbors, I am just trying to not be my always awkward self, and I never thought what they might see or take out of the brief exchange because I always just assume my jokes are stupid, that they’re counting the seconds until that awkward neighbor leaves. I always see the worst. I think I’m awkward, I’m always going to be awkward, but that’s not what other people necessarily see. These neighbors don’t know how I see myself.

I pout too often about how I don’t like my weight right now, but I ignore the positive changes I have made.  I was staring at my grocery cart in the check-out line the other day and I couldn’t believe that it was my cart, full of stuff picked out by ME. Two years ago I probably wouldn’t have been able to tell you what egg whites were. Or why too much sodium was a problem. Or what almond milk was. Or what Greek yogurt was. and why it was different. Two years ago when I went to the grocery store, I completely ignored the perimeter of the grocery store. I never bought produce. Ever. I bought cookies, crackers, bagel bites, ice-cream, cheez-its, pop-tarts. All I drank was soda, alcohol and the occasional water with Crystal Light. I’m pretty confident that I never, ever, ever hit my suggested veggie intake. Now I fill my cart with egg whites, fat-free Greek yogurt, cranberries, spinach, bananas, strawberries, almonds, carrots. I think and care about things like my veggie intake everyday and make smoothies or small salads to accommodate if I realize it’s low. I pause to dwell on if I am drinking enough water – and sometimes, I even drink more water than recommended. I limit myself to one soda or one Crystal Light a week, and sometimes I go without them.

I get borderline depressed when I look at my bank account and remember how poor I am. But if I frame the situation another way,  I  feel proud that while my bank account doesn’t end with as many zero’s as I’d like it to, I’m living on my own in a new city, paying bills, and am still managing to save something.  When I moved to this city, I lived here for 4.5 months without any income. I’m proud that I managed to make it work and am still here making it work and learning about living on my own. I personally have a lot to learn about how to be an adult and live on my own.

Not only do I tend to have a distaste for where I am in my life and dwell on all the things that I’m presently not, I am guilty of pigeon-holing myself and accepting what I  let myself think I can never be. Make sense? Probably not. I know I hold myself back and don’t take chances because “well, obviously, that’s not for me, that’s for people cooler/more successful/more talented than me. I won’t be able to do that.” It’s sobering to realize I severely underestimate myself and cut myself off from fun things. Shouldn’t I be my own advocate? My biggest  cheerleader? It’s sad to realize I’m always my worst critic – and yes, I know I’m not alone in that. I’m training for a 12 miler in August (!!!!!) which I NEVER thought I’d do. Those kinds of things were obviously for runners only and I can never be a runner because .. hello..look at me, my name is Caitlyn, it’s not in my DNA, I suck at everything forever and ever amen. I’m still not 100% convinced I’ll be able to pull it off but I try to banish those thoughts and just focus on going a teensy bit further than I did yesterday.  I always thought it’d be so cool to be a half-marathoner but never pursued it because of who I thought I was and who I just accept that I am. Lazy, afraid, doomed, terrible at everything,hopeless. Yes, I’m lazy, but I can overcome that. Yes, I walked a nearly-20 minute mile in 7th grade and hated it every second, but why oh why still think about that 10 years later? It was a stupid grade school fitness test, it should have nothing to do with today, and the Caitlyn back then was most definitely not the Caitlyn of now. Thank God.

Really I get so angsty about how I’m not where I want to be, but I don’t stop to think about where I am, compared to where I  have been. Sure it’s not as fast and the results aren’t as sudden as I’d want them to be, but they are there. The littlest of results. Things – good things – will happen if I keep chugging along. Even if it feels like I’m getting nowhere. Good things are there. I just have to pay more attention and readjust what view I’m looking at.

Stuck

That’s me. I feel stuck. In every aspect.  December has not been a kind month. I got screamed at in the middle of a meeting for the first time. I cried in the bathroom at work for the first time. I kind of cried to my boss for the first time after we had a big confrontation over the one instance where I whispered (whispered!!) a joke to the girl next to me in a meeting where 20 other people were talking to the person next to them and when I do it, it’s single-handedly THE MOST UNPROFESSIONAL THING EVER. Despite sitting there singing Katy Perry ‘Roar’ lyrics in my head so I wouldn’t I still kind of cried and she saw and told me ‘oh geez don’t get upset’ which for some reason made me MORE upset. I’ve also  had to pull over on the car ride home for the first time so I could cry. My dad said “I’m sorry you’re feeling miserable” and I said “I’m not miserable. I just feel so stuck.” I haven’t been able to pull myself out of bed at 4 am to go to the gym because if I’m asleep I can delay being awake and feeling stuck and thinking about being stuck.

My love life [haaaaaa] is non-existent. My battle with weight is so frustrating. I have been doing so well  and then weeks like recently happen and the only way I know how to deal is to just inhale.all.the.foods.I feel like I’m not that connected to Baltimore and it’s my own fault. I have been better with this, and I’ve met some more people, but I still don’t have many Baltimore friends. I have like, 3, people to go out with on weekends and if none of them can go, I’m out of luck. And that’s my fault too but I just am too awkward to put in too much effort and after work all I want to do is put on sweatpants and stay in my house. My college roommates keep asking me if I think I should move and that seems way too dramatic..even for me. I don’t even know what I would move for- a job? I don’t know what I want to do. I like what I do. It makes sense to do what I do but I don’t know if I’m that good at it. I still often feel like I’m faking it. Somedays I escape meetings where I babble on about nothing and when people nod I think ‘phew. I fooled them again. They couldn’t tell that I don’t know a damn thing.’

I guess at 24.5, with 25 looming,  I realize I’m nowhere near the girl I thought I would be at 25. I thought the 25 year old me would be thin, have a great job I loved and kicked ass at, had a great boyfriend, a great wardrobe, live in a city and did such cool things. I’m in a city, but i can’t seem to propel myself into making the rest happen. Lazy, scared, pick one I don’t know. Oh and I don’t know anything. There’s that too. But! There’s still time. May 12 [my birthday] is 5 months away. All I know is I’m sick of disappointing myself and feeling like sometimes all I do is wander aimlessly and that I just survive. That sounds dramatic but I feel like lately 200 times a day I say ‘I just want to go home and be in bed.’

Sooo that’s where I’m at. I’m just pulling myself forward and trying to figure out how to be proactive and find answers and..blah. This post is slightly hysterical. I’m not depressed or anything that serious. I’m …fine. But is that enough? I dunno. At this age (the time of my life!!! or something), shouldn’t I be more?

uh. happy friday!? take a shot every time i say stuck in this post.

When I Get There

What’s waiting for me? Who am I going to be?

I know, this is ridiculous and I don’t blame you if you think “why does this girl so willingly plaster allllll over the internet that she’s totally loony tunes?”.  I’m only trying to lose 15-ishhhh pounds so this shouldn’t be such a drastic overhaul, but being an analytical worrier is kinda my thing. For so long, I’ve always chalked all of my insecurities to being overweight. “I’ll be better at speaking in meetings if I’m thinner”, “I’ll be a better flirt when I’m not overweight”, “I’ll be more confident when I’m thin”, ‘I won’t think everyone’s judging/laughing at me if I’m thin”, et cetera, et cetera. The extra weight I lug around has always been a defense mechanism, of sorts. I’ve always been convinced that I’m so insecure because of my weight. And if I lost the weight, I’d be more confident, have more fun, let loose, not so easily intimidated and whatnot. For example, in my lackluster love life—if I’m a little overweight, no guy could want me so I never have to face rejection.

Here’s what I know:

  • I’m not expecting that when I am fitter that I’ll be a totally different person who suddenly hates Goldfish or realizes my calling to join Scientology. I know that I’ll still be Caitlyn who needs plenty of alone time and is forever addicted to the terrible, terrible, terrible Bravo shows. I’m not going to suddenly be !!omgzz so happy!! after a magic number appears on the scale
  • I am well aware that being thinner is not the Be All End All and losing pounds doesn’t change how you think.
  • Working at being healthy is a forever thing. It’s never really going to be a done deal. I’ll be constantly adjusting and changing my goals and routines. Note to Future Caitlyn regarding the changing routines because Present Caitlyn is a moody creature of habit who loathes starting anything new and adjusting to new routines: this.is.a.good.thing.relax.
  • Let’s face it, I (and most people) will probably never really be 100% happy. If it’s not my legs, it’ll be my arms.  If it’s not my arms, it’ll be my abs. If it’s not my abs, it’ll be shoulders. And so it goes on and on. Everyone, no matter what size, has issues or causes of unsatisfaction.

I can’t help but wonder. For sooooo long now, I’ve always thought thinner me= happier me.  I think I took so long (almost 10 years!) in delaying making my health and body a priority because I was (am) scared of what I might find if I was to shed the extra weight. I just might find that when I was fit, I would still largely be unhappy with my appearance and that I would still be an insecure mess. If I was thinner/fitter, I’d lose my safety net. The blame game is one of my favorites and what do I blame then? I pin being overweight on practically everything: no, he wasn’t interested, I’m overweight,  I’m scared of practically everything because I’m overweight, I’m shy because I’m overweight. To lose that would mean I’d be more vulnerable and have to accept ME. It’s scary.

The last time I was thin I was in grade school – 8th grade. I played a sport every season just because all my friends were. And in 8th grade, we all quit so we could “live it up” (like our idol Ja Rule) as much as you can when you’re 13. I had more free time than ever and found myself mindlessly snacking and subsequently ballooning. For most of the crucial, maturing  years, I just slotted myself into the funny, kind-of-overweight kid who was content to fade into the background and let everyone else get allll the attention because oh I’m not thin like they are and I don’t want to be in the spotlight so that way I won’t feel judged slot. I don’t know (and don’t want to know) if that’s how other people in real life perceive me, but it’s how I perceive me and I’ve found I’m my own worst enemy. It’s weird: I’ve been fervently wishing the extra pounds away for so long, but now that I’m actively working toward it, I’m all panic! (at the disco) thinking ‘but what am I going to do when it leaves?’

I worry I don’t know how to be thin. I don’t know who I am thin. Does that make any sense? Probably not but if you’ve read here before then you likely know that logic isn’t my style and over thinking with a generous side of dramatic is.  This is the classic diagnosis: fear of success and fear of the unknown.  I’m just trying to figure out my best self and finding a balance, but I guess that’s what we’re all doing, isn’t it? Si.

(puh-leez don’t bother sending me e-mails saying I’m self-absorbed and/or seeking compliments as the second part is not correct,  n-o-t what the post is about or the discussion I’m interested in engaging in. Kthxbai. 🙂 ).

Hear Me Roar

Oh, hey.

boy meets world make it stop

I took a quick vacay from blogging because shooooot I was just worn down. I reactivated Facebook so I’m sucked back into that hole of ‘WILL EVERYONE PLEASE STOP GETTING ENGAGED DECEMBER 21 2012 HAS PASSED THE MAYANS WERE WRONG’, there’s Twitter to make sure everyone knows allllllllll of my opinions on my terrible TV shows, Pinterest to live vicariously through, Instagram which I’m tryingtryingtrying to be better at, and blah. Also work is starting to pick up, and I usually hammer out a post before I get started working and chip away at reading blogs in spare moments… and I just got bogged down and overwhelmed and the club can’t even handle me right now.

betty

That last sentence I typed was a lie. I’ve been going out on weekends with Jenna, the girl from work who I used to swear hated me. Will wonders never cease? Reading my old posts and man..even knowing that in books/movies, the girl character that is ice cold and kinda bitchy to the heroine/narrator is either a) really an icy cold bitch and becomes the mortal enemy to our fair heroine or b) not really ice cold and bitchy it was all a misunderstanding  then they team up, I would have sworn B would never happen with us co-verkers, but here we are, stumbling around the streets laughing about too many vodka/sprites. Is my social life actually on the upswing? Stay tuned for this new development because painful detail is my thing.

shine bright

new motivational sign on cubicle.

The new girl, Alex, who shares my cubicle has the exact same humor as me and so we’re laughing, joking around, talking obsessively about Bravo shows (and what a douchebag Ryan Culberson is on Real Housewives of OC because any 20 something MARINE who gets in a sweet and gracious 64 year old’s face ,an invited guest of your mother-in-law, for no reason deserves to be punched in the face over and over and over SIGH makes me so mad and did that make any sense? no), sending Buzzfeed articles back and forth with subject lines that say things like “Sales meeting prep”, all day long. My boss Sharon and I have such a stellar relationship, she is forever telling the company leadership what a great job I’m doing (puh-leez give me a raise), gives me a lot of freedom with important projects and has so much trust in me,  and we also talk about Bravo shows and what a douchebag Ryan Culberson is and she brings me in books which of course makes her one of my favorite people.

tina piza

I think I have mentioned it but I’m competing in the “Biggest Loser” at work where we weigh in weekly. There’s an overall Loser Winner, who loses the most weight throughout the competition. There’s also weekly rankings for the person who loses the most each week. For the first two weeks, yours truly was dead last.  I’m pretty sure every time I personally was in last it was because I gained weight. Then I won the next two weeks. And was middle of the pack rest of the weeks. Won another week. Once again on the bottom last week. One of the other ‘losers’ said to me ‘Wow, Caitlyn, you sure are a compelling competitor. I can never predict what you do every week!’ Haha. That may sound mean, but she’s the nicest lady and it is kind of funny. The other contestants are all consistent-ish and then there’s hurricane Caitlyn. Up 2 pounds, down 3 pounds, up 2 pounds, down .5 a pound. I am so consistent in my inconsistency. It’s a rare talent.  The competition is halfway over and I’m hoping I can string together a good run. Right now I’m in 4th, which is more impressive than it sounds, considering 7 people are competing.

zombies dotn text

Does anyone watch Pretty Little Liars? I’m watching it on my computer as I write this. This show has so jumped the shark. I used to OBSESS about this show and talk conspiracy theories until the cows came home but now can barely muster up any interest anymore and there’s a whole new crop of creeps I do not care about. Also, if anyone wants to join me in my ‘Aria & Ezra a blackhole of suck’ camp where we sit around and don’t care about Ezria and angrily tweet show producers demanding answers (that I have yet to receive) about why “A” has never, ever done anything to Aria while the other 3 girls are repeatedly put through hell, I’m over here to the left.  Oh you stupid show, I wish I could quit you.

homer treadmill

I finally figured out, with the help of my college roommate Rachel, why my DVD player wasn’t working. It is now set up and I just got Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred and another one of hers I can’t remember. I’m terrified/excited/clinging to relief that SHE CAN’T SEE ME.

iti s law

Someday when I have my own company, I am going to implement a policy where we allot employees with “not in the mood” days. Not in the mood days are when your alarm goes off and you just cannot haul yourself out of bed,  when your alarm goes off and it’s raining (aka it should be illegal to have to get OUT of bed), when you just want to stay in bed and watch Law & Order: SVU marathons all day, or when you are not in the mood to leave your house. For me that’s like everyday but all good things in moderation.

Let’s take a road trip and go here. I may or may not have teared up. THIS GUY IS THE GREATEST.

1 .bagel bites or pizza rolls? i like both, but am staunchly team bagel bites fo life.

2. what places do you want to visit? i have a lot. atlanta (meg & rebekah, i’m coming). miami, hawaii (obv), pittsburgh, san fran (i need to see the full house house), nashville, vegas, nawleans. don’t even get me started on international places.

3. fave fitness DVD?

*the post title is homage to katy perry’s new song which i can not and will not take off repeat. super annoying lyric video ahead.