Rest for the weary…

I made a nice little syllabus to help keep myself accountable while studying for my NASM Certified Personal Training. Sunday through Tuesday, I’ll cover one chapter, and then Wednesday through Friday, I’ll cover another and so on with Saturdays off. So technically yesterday was supposed to be my non-study day and I’d start fresh today. I still ended up studying yesterday {because I actually love what I’m learning-amazing!} and had planned to keep on studying today especially since this chapter is a bear. Well, you know how I posted a picture of my cozy little study area the other day?

It was soooo comfy.

Yeah, I fell asleep–for about three hours. I swear this never happens! But I started studying the neurons, mechanoreceptors, Golgi tendon organ (GTO) and fast-twitch and slow-twitch and I was out. This biology stuff is hard for me! I was an English major! I will get the scientific side of it though–I will! But I knew that in my mind as I was turning the GTO into GTL and thinking about fist-pumping it was time to just take a catnap. I was crazy sore from my late night workout yesterday, so I think my muscles were telling me to sleep. When he was done cutting the grass, the hubby came in and caught me in my Sleeping Beauty pose and told me he was ready to fire up the grill.

Wingettes before....

I seasoned some wingettes for the grill.

Wingettes during...

Waiting, waiting, waiting…oooh, I’m so hungry!

Wingettes ready!

Get in my belly! Mmm! I figure, if I’m going to have some wings, baked or on the grill is better than deep fried any day! I added some Frank’s Red Hot on mine. Yum! I would get in the rest of my studying after dinner, but I’ve got something to do–

I loooooove Big Brother!

–it’s Sunday, so that means watch Big Brother on CBS of course!! I love the dramarama! So after the show I will be settling down with my mug o’coffee and textbooks and getting back to work. I’m a better late night studier anyhow and that’s when things tend to sink in best. So while I planned to study earlier, I’ll still be getting it done tonight and had a great nap to rest my sore muscles. It’s all good! :-)

How was your Sunday? Did you sleep the day away or stay active?

Pass the holiday gluttony.

“Don’t dig your grave with your knife and fork.”
– English Proverb


Remember that Doritos tagline, “Crunch all you want, we’ll make more?” Every holiday, I take that tagline to mind, and modify it so it works for me, “You don’t have to eat everything, there’ll be more food tomorrow.” In the Doritos commercial, they want you to keep stuffing your face with the corn chips—“Keep eating those fatty, cheesy, addictive chips, you foolish consumer, and we’ll keep making more to fill your ever-expanding belly!!” Obviously, this is why I take the tagline, tweak it a little, and use it positively.

I’m not trying to be a killjoy. Have a burger. Have a hot dog. Have that slice o’apple pie. But three burgers, four hotdogs, two huge pieces of pie, lemonade, cake, potato salad, chips, DORITOS, ice cream, coleslaw, fried chicken, watermelon, fruit punch, and just one more hotdog for the road, all because it’s there and it’s a holiday? Get real! Today is no different.

Yes, oh yes, there will be some feasting today. I’m just not partaking in it. Of course I will have a delicious dinner to celebrate, duh, but I’m still keeping it around my usual 500 calories. I can still have a good time without gorging myself because it’s XYZ Holiday. Actually, I have a better time because, I will have enjoyed my food, stayed within my target calories, didn’t have the “Ugghh, my stomach is so full I might burst and feel miserable,” and I don’t have to kill myself in the gym tomorrow burning it off. One meal is not worth all that to me!! Holiday or not, there will still be food tomorrow. I don’t need to shove it all down my throat today because the calendar/marketing geniuses at Hallmark/society says so.

You, my dear, are a Status Troll.

If it walks like a troll, and smells like a troll, it's a troll!

Ah, yes—the Facebook Status Troll. Whether you say tomato or tomahto, however you want to define it, I bet you know just what I’m talking about. Most of us seem to have them, which is what I found to be the general consensus.

Anytime I mention the status troll (ST), that little red notification flag starts appearing—everyone has something to say about them. Some are friends that we’ve known for years, some are mere acquaintances. Some are co-workers, some are your bosses. Some *gasp* are family members. I’ve read the different definitions; this is how I define them: “They like to come on your statuses and start stuff for no reason at all. They never come to your page to say anything good, or thoughtful or inspiring; they like to try to make you look bad and themselves good. And they hover like a troll waiting to show up, always unwanted.” Yes, I put it in quotes—that is my exact Cherieism definition straight from my page.

I don’t get it really…Why do they need to come and rain on our parades? I could have a series of status updates ranging from, “I just received the BEST news!” to “I learned how to speak Mandarin!” to “Oh I’m sad. My cockatoo died today,” and there will be complete silence from the ST. Like, you could hear crickets. But then, I’ll post something completely for my own happiness, which does not need a comment or a ‘like’, such as “Pizza from Papa John’s is pretty darn good with this garlic sauce.” And then out of his or her slimy, oozing pit of darkness climbs the ST. “Eww. I hate Papa John’s. That pizza is crap. I never eat there. Why are you even eating pizza? Pizza makes you fat.”

REALLY, Status Troll? REALLY? I heard good news today, learned to speak Mandarin, and my beloved bird died. But you wish to comment on my pizza? :: POOF:: Be gone!! Troll hunters of the world unite—one by one, let’s do it together, Delete. Block. Delete. Block. Delete. Block. And yes, even family members. Blood is thicker than Facebook; they’ll get over it.

I am not Precious.


as if. not then, not now.

How are you doing with your New Year’s Resolutions? It’s almost mid-year, so I thought I’d ask. If you fell off the wagon, no matter what it was, it’s not too late to climb back up and start anew. You have 6+ months left to git-r-done!!!! Start right NOW.

For once, I didn’t fall off the wagon. Actually, I successfully accomplished my NYR from 2010 and I’m still succeeding on 2011’s. But it’s more than just that—I didn’t resolve to just stick with my weight loss/get healthy goals, I resolved to make it a lifetime thing. I deserve it and owe to myself. In January of 2010, I was overweight. Nothing so overweight as to be a stand in for Star Jones pre-gastric bypass or anything, but overweight enough to be uncomfortable in my own skin. I was nearing size 20. SIZE 20!!!! That was way too much for my 5’3” frame. Way too much to look in a mirror and be okay with what I saw. Way too much to go clothes shopping and enjoy it. Way too much period.

“Hi Precious. Yeah, that’s it; you look like Precious.” That’s what one of my teachers told me in January 2010. Now, let me say, it pissed me off. Obviously. I was nowhere close to that size and didn’t look anything like her. But, it also served as motivation. No one will ever liken me to Precious again. NEVER. It lit a fire under me and that fire will never burn out. I walked on my treadmill about 4 times a week for 30 minutes at first. I cut out “bad” foods. Then, I increased it to 45 minutes and tried fartleks here and there. And I stuck with it. I didn’t see a lot of weight loss at first, but by the year’s end, I was down about 38 pounds. I figured slow and steady would be the way to go. But what I lost in poundage, I gained in self-esteem.

I started 2011 by telling myself that I’d run more, not just walk, and I’d start lifting weights to build muscle. I also started keeping a food journal. I stick to about 1500 calories a day, love eating healthy, clean foods and even stopped drinking alcohol!! The weight started dropping even more once I started to increase my running and left the walking behind. It was like magic!!!  Well, no, actually, it was a like a lot of hard work and sweat. But it’s so worth it. I feel amazing and as of now, I’m down 55 pounds from where it all began.

I hit my rock bottom. That “Precious” comment is something I will NEVER forget but I needed to hear it. I used to be one of those people sitting on the couch eating Doritos while watching the Biggest Loser saying, I’ll start tomorrow. START NOW. Find your motivation, take that mean comment from someone and USE IT. Get angry. Get fired up. Get moving. Show them. Show yourself!!!!

nope. don't look like Precious at all!!

maybe that emily dickinson class i took in college was foreshadowing…

i think i can do my hair like that, too...

i think i can do my hair like that, too...

i think i should be a contestant on big brother. what are my qualifications? hmmm, well, it’s not a judge of character; i’ve been lacking in that ability lately. i don’t think it’s the ability to win reality show physical activities or challenges; i’ve been in better shape and don’t seem to have a penchant for beating people to the buzzer with answers about veto competitions. but, i am quite, quite good at being confined to the same house for many, many days over the course of a gorgeous summer.

at first it was dreadful. what?? you mean i have to stay here in this house all summer and give up one of my favorites actitivites of shopping for stuff i don’t need?? i’m actually going to have to remain here and find something to entertain me–something in which i earned a degree, like writing?? i can’t hop on the treadmill and run for thirty minutes and then drop and give my ficticious drill sargeant twenty??? (that last one i didn’t mind so much.) 

i’ve gotten quite acclimated with being a recluse actually. the trouble is, i’m starting to love it. LOVE it. i don’t want leave the house. i don’t want to go anywhere or see anyone. and everytime i do have to leave for a doctor’s appointment, for instance, i’m staring at my watch wondering when i can be back in the happiness, the solitary of my home. 

i met my husband on UNC’s campus for lunch after an appointment the other day and was amazed at all the people. “look at them! they’re everywhere… they’re doing things! they’re going places! look at them moving around! they’re like zombies, only not dead, gross, and after my brains!!” i had to explain to him that he’s pretty much the only live person i come in contact with anymore. i don’t work, i live out in the country, the neighbors aren’t anywhere in my age range, and i have no friends here. i’m becoming a modern day emily dickinson!! and i’m actually okay with it!!

so why not go on big brother and give it a shot living my recluse life there? i promise not to be another chima simone, though. i almost never have a ghetto outburst, and especially not if winning a large sum of money is involved. that’s just plain crazy!

i heart zooey deschanel and him. and wye oak. not amc.

    she and him  last night, i saw a famous actress, my ears bled, and i discovered a new band. last night was the 2/3 fabulous Merge xx Festival at memorial hall at unc. ahh, the two thirds…hence the reason for the blood dripping from my ears, but i’ll get to that later.
        my main reason for wanting to go to the concert (and yes, it was a sit down concert, so i was not in a mosh pit disturbing my lumbar disc) was to see She & Him. mainly the She because “She” is  one of my favorite actresses, zooey deschanel!!  oh how adorable she was! and quirky. even though she only said a handful of words and spent her time singing, because, well, it was a concert, the quirkiness exuded from her body. she could actually sing too, which helped :-) . i also greatly enjoyed her back up singer, heidi. i don’t know if her name was heidi, but she looked like a heidi. more specifically, she looked like a character from Big Love–the uber mormon. oh how happy she was during the entire performance–she just kept twirling around, clapping and smiling and it was contagious! i wish i had had her to look at during the 2nd opening act to remind me of what happiness was like. when your ears are shooting projectile blood, you tend to forget.
           the opening act was wye oak–they were awesome and have made fans for life. mad crazy drum beats and honest vocals–i felt like i was in a cafe listening to the best ever back ground music. so good that i’d not  be able to concentrate on my work and would have to go up to the cafe manager and find out what it was and then rush out to buy it.  they honestly could have just been the main act–the next time they come to chapel hill, i will be there.
         so the show started off fabulously–we were all ramped up from wye oak. and the show ended with me on a high from having been thisclose to zooey and listening to her kick ass band. but the middle…oh, the horrors. oh, the humanity. 
         as i said to my husband last night, i would rather be in pain like i was when i first injured my back (a pain that my physical therapist said he heard from his other patients is worse than labor) than EVER, EVER, EVER listen to american music club again. amc, led by lead singer mark eitzel, was absolutely the worst music, if i may call it music, that i’ve ever heard in my 31 years. i could actally adapt to nails on a chalkboard, teeth scraping a fork, or the sound of my ex coworker valerie’s voice before i’d listen to one second of amc again. i took a look at their website, on mute of course, for fear that when i typed in the url his moaning would slowly crawl out of my speakers. it appears as though amc is a type of music described as sadcore–“characterized by bleak lyrics, downbeat melodies and slower tempos” and is music “by and for the depressed”. What the EFF was this band doing placed in between wye oak and she & him??!! whose million dollar idea was that?? people were getting up and walking out. and mr. eitzel even said that while he was on stage. maybe this inspired him to be more depressed?? 
       when he first walked on stage, i thought he was one of the tech guys just testing out the microphones. a drunk, homeless tech guy.  then when he started singing, i thought, okay, he’s doing it to be funny. once the second song began, i knew my next forty minutes would be nothing other than pure torture. what a killjoy.
        anyhow, thank you wye oak and she & him. you made the night so amazing!  and i suppose thank you to american music club as well. even after this excruciating back injury, you showed me what true pain really is.

the media’s fascination with farrah’s death was actually trumped.


but so, so good.

but so, so good.

     right now, i’m doing something that i haven’t been able to do in a good fifteen or twenty years. maybe even more. at this moment, i’m actually watching videos on MTV. yes, they’re all michael jackson videos of course, but that’s even better. for tonight only, i’m able to tune into this station and not see a game show, a reality show, a competitive reality game show or an outlandishly expensive bratty 16-year-old’s birthday party. nope, for the rest of the evening i can watch and not be forced to feel that at 31, i’m an over-the-hill, out-of-date lady that needs to be called “ma’am” by the bagger at harris teeter. i can instead watch and be reminded of how amazing it felt to be young, but aware, that while sitting in front of the screen as michael did the moonwalk for the very first time, that this was history in the making; this was the epitome of cool.

            back then it would be a prime time event to gather on the couch and watch the new michael jackson video premiere. the network head honchos would even allow precious air time for it on the major cable channels. rightfully so—who else could bring in the ratings? they didn’t even do that for madonna or prince and we old timers know how crazy huge they were. i can even remember when michael burnt his scalp filming a pepsi commercial—we talked about it for days. the world talked about it for days.

            when he was on the screen, we were watching an original. not somebody who sounded like michael jackson, acted like michael jackson, danced like michael jackson—he was the real, first thing. imagine having had a world without him—justin timberlake, ne-yo, usher and chris brown would all have had to come up with their own sounds and moves! back in the day, only michael could inspire me to get up from the couch and dance like i was a street fighter gone “bad”, a pharaoh trying to “remember the time”, or zombie running from the “thriller”. even now, i’ll walk down franklin street secretly hoping that the sidewalk squares will light up under my feet. 

            in thirty or forty years, i’m a little bit concerned that when a superstar passes away, i’m not going to care. with the deaths of two major celebrities today, it’s made me realize that all too soon we’re going to be left with the likes of miley cyrus and the jonas brothers. and their deaths will be mourned too, of course, but i have a sneaking suspicion they won’t have enough videos to fill up a televised memorial special.

aren’t there any good mistresses in south carolina?

      this story keeps getting better and better. first the governor of south carolina is missing. then he’s camping. then he’s in another country. and now the truth comes out–he was in argentina having an affair with a friend. say it with me everyone, ARGENTINA?? oh for the love of pete. if he was going to cheat, please tell me why he couldn’t find a mistress here in the states? did he really need to go to argentina to do it? don’t say it’s because he’s famous, i’d bet my house that there are plenty of men more famous than mark sanford that are getting a little on the side here in the u.s. and no one is the wiser.  yes, there are always the john edwards and the elliot spitzers that get caught–it’s the risk they take for a little nooky. but argentina?? what’s wrong with a good ol’ south carolinian lady friend? and did he really think that he’d be able to just slip out of the country unnoticed?  for five days? to go camping? hahaha, thank you gov. sanford. in my time of sorrow that i’ve been having this month, you have given me the best laugh ever. i can’t wait to hear more.

best. lie. ever.

best. lie. ever.