humor, self-help

Air Mattress of Death, Part 2

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#princessproblems

I have great friends. True. They are so good at taking care of me. 100% …I am a princess after all. Yes, you are. After much pestering from my peeps on the many “whys” I shouldn’t be sleeping on a couch, I finally gave into peer pressure and borrowed their damn air mattress last week. Totally set up for failure. As much as people may like to believe I am super high maintenance, it’s more of an OCD problem than it is hyper-involved, pretty girl pouty problem. Stay with me, I’ll explain. I borrowed an air mattress. Again. Which, one could believe was hell-worthy to begin with; but it wasn’t. It wasn’t even the beginning…

Friday I had THE WORST headache of the century. So terrible that I had my eye mask on, was drinking ginger tea to calm the nausea -caused by said headache- and just tried to sleep it off. It was absolutley debilitating. And annoying. As much as I  joke, I’m anti-prescription meds, anti-over-the-counter-crap, and will just suck it up and power through it. I believe the mind is a powerful thing. And to not utilize that power would be idiotic. Yes, there are exceptions blah blah… But that doesn’t matter here. Not even a little bit. So, by late evening, the severe pounding finally dissipated enough where I could do some yoga for my migraine. You know what guys always say gets rid of a headache? Hush. We know. It was calming and helped immensely. And wasn’t perverted at all… guys. The headache didn’t go away completely, but I could feel the tension release. You know what would “release–” shut up.

Fast forward to Saturday, I had slept on this mattress for a second night. Bad idea. The first night

Yes, there’s a sippy cup for everything…

went well, aside from headache guy -in my head- swinging the hammer the previous 24hr period, so I continue on… This fucking mattress. This is when shit got real. It tried to smother me. I tossed and turned all night. Seriously, it tried to suffocate me. I had to lay like I fell from a ten-story building just to even out the airy part of the damn thing. Please kill me. Add to the fact I couldn’t stop sweating in my plastic hell. Drowning me in this factory-made, chemical sleeping cell. Dramatic much? Always. Listen. If I’m inhaling the weird velvet coating on this blown up pool of air fuckery, then it’s safe to suspect this bastard also tried to poison me too. I woke up with a broken neck on Saturday. Really. You’re neck is broken now… Fine, it’s not broken. But I could not move my head from side to side. Or at all. Ugh. So, my headache is gone and now my body -which spent the night fighting for it’s dear life- is now in seething pain. So, my son had to wait on me hand and foot while  I’m back on my (fully paid for) couch. Laid out. In tears. All day. So, I ring the bell conveniently located next to my open sofa casket and summon for a sippy cup -made for wine- and slurp away.

DISCLAIMER: Why don’t I have a bed, you ask? Because I’m a picky bitch. I refuse to buy just “anything.” I wait to buy exactly what I want and am A-OK to go without until I find what I am looking for… plus I need another payment plan. *wink

 

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Exercise, humor, Uncategorized

The YouTube Yoga Kick

Who would’ve thought that i could get a pretty kick ass workout on YouTube? No one.  I sure as hell didn’t. And neither does anyone else really. Like I said, nobody. Well, forget all them. Because this is my new way to feel sexy, and save money, so I can get those weird come on lines, like “Would you like a pistachio?” And make weird faces and respond like: Um, no. And he’ll continue on like, “I’m just offering you a nut, girl.” And I’ll be like: Huh? *Flip my hair, and hastily clip clop away. While feeling disgusted; but happy. Honestly, every female reading this knows that all you need is a great pair of heels and you’ll get hit on two shimmies from walking out your front door. No offense guys, but you know it’s true. Girls are complicated.

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Sweaty Pervenasium…

I have been working out in my building’s gym off and on since I started this ridiculous quest for muscle hotness, and A) There’s too many weirdos that are in there… staring.       B) I’m apparently so out of shape that I’m sweating profusely and it’s gross. I imagine the horrific weather we’ve been having so early on this summer, hasn’t helped that one bit. Thank you Mother Nature. I appreciate the many ways you find, to help aid in my public humiliation. As if I don’t have enough trouble doing that on my own. *impending sarcasm approaching* Sincerely, Thank you. So, I decided to give online working out a try. Remember, I don’t have television, so I have to be creative. Anyone want to build a birdhouse? Uh… Anyway, I found this chick, Courtney Bell, and she has a YOGA for weight loss… boot camp… three session… workout thing online. I figured, this is great. I didn’t want something too activity-invested. Lazy ass. But, I wanted something that could wake up my metabolism and get me motivated. Did it? It sure did! I was sore. The first day. The second day; I half assed it. But, I was still sore the following day. And the third sesh? It wasn’t as easy to find in the search thing; But, I found it, I powered through it and you know what? Yeah. I was hurtin. For a Cheeto. And they weren’t even long sessions. They were about half an hour long, and with her chatty demeanor at the beginning… It really only came out to appoximately twenty -some odd- minutes of actual rolling around on the floor. Downward dog what?

After, what I call the metabolism -wake up the monkey- boot camp, I YouTubed it on over to a more advanced yoga workout. Why? I don’t know… motivation or some shit. Still keeping under the 30 minute timer because honestly, I used to workout two hours a day; sometimes three. But you’re not now so zip it. And while I do love working out… It’s just too stinking hot out and I’ve got so much on my plate momentarily to dump that much time in the gym right now. Are those excuses? Hush. I tried to do the Courtney Bell workouts above a second week in a row, but honestly, I was bored and it was moving too slow for me now that my body has awakened from its hibernation. *yawn* So I found another lady and she’s kicking my ass. Gluterific. What I love about these online yoga workouts -they’re cheesy? No. What I love is that I can target muscle groups and difficulty level to meet my goals a little more efficiently than just winging it on my own at the sweaty weirdo chopping blockatorium that my building has to offer. All in all, I’m not dishing out sixty bones a month (or more) for a gym membership either. That’s pedicure money! And regardless of where I get my stinky workouts on? I’ll be supercharging my bootiliciousness, and the next hottie eyeballing me, will not hesitiate to ask if I want to pet the giraffe in his pocket…