I basically hate Rob Thomas of Matchbox 20 and, poor thing, it isn’t even his fault. I actually blame it all on Santana and that god awful song “Smooth” that was officially 1999’s Most Overplayed Hit. If you just had to click on that link to remind yourself of the song I am talking about, know that I am envious of your ignorance.
Fun Fact: I just fell down a Rob Thomas rabbit hole and found out that he originally wanted George Michael to collaborate with Santana on that song (Thomas originally wrote it for someone else) and man if I don’t feel like I just dodged a bullet since I probably would have grown to hate George Michael too! Then instead of throwing away all of my Matchbox 20 albums what if I had thrown out all my Wham! Records? OHMYGAWD, a world without Wham! is not a world I want to live in.
So all the Rob Thomas talk is because I heard “Smooth” this afternoon and not only did I NOT feel even one iota of rage, but I listened to it all the way through! I KNOW. Are you dead from shock? Don’t Die! Come back to me! Please? Because I am about to tie this into weight loss and cross-dressing, and that is fucking impressive I think. Besides, what else are you going to do right now? Fall down a Rob Thomas rabbit hole? I Do Not Recommend.
I didn’t turn the station because it reminded me of a text message I once got from my cousin Kelly when her in laws came to visit. They were driving up from LA one weekend and upon their arrival Kelly sent me a text that said: OMG, my father in law just rolled into my driveway in a shiny new mini-van blaring Rob Thomas and Santana’s “Smooth.” And this struck me as so hilarious in that moment. I mean, right now, I want you imagine your in-laws rolling up in your driveway in a brand new shiny minvan bumping Rob Thomas and Santana? Or bumping anything for that matter IN A MINIVAN? I dare you not to laugh. And when that song came on today I had a little perspective shift. Instead of having PTSD flashbacks to 1999 as per usual, I thought of Kelly’s awesome Father-in-Law and his (obvs) awesome mini-van and enjoyed the entire song.
Perspective shifts are magical! Like Unicorns!
And speaking of laughing hysterically and perspective shifts, two people called me skinny at work today. This has happened with an increasing frequency over the last few weeks and I drop dead of shock Every. Single. Time. Mostly because the truth is, whether I have lost weight or not, I could still give the majority of NFL Linemen a run for their money if we were standing on scales next to each other. I definitely do not associate the word skinny with myself. I am not even close to my goal weight, and at 5’10 and NOT of tiny bone structure, I’m not afraid to tell you that my goal weight is somewhere around 175lbs. I KNOW! That probably makes some of YOU want to drop dead of shock.
But here’s the thing, at 175lbs I’m pretty sure I will look strong and hot as hell, so don’t die! Get out your smelling salts one more time and come back to me, would ya? Pretty please?
(Boy all of this dropping dead is getting a little exhausting, but I have to admit a part of me just died inside just telling you about my goal weight in like, actual numbers. But we’re all friends here, right internet? So why shouldn’t I let you in on that goal! 175lbs it is!)
So this other thing that I wanted to let you in on? Was how I made Garrett try on women’s clothing the other night. I know *kinky* right? Speaking of dropping dead, Garrett just dropped dead of embarrasment because I told THE INTERNET that he wears women’s clothes. All of his fears that his girlfriend is a blogger without boundaries have come true. MWAHAHAHAHA.
Seriously though, it was only jeans, and I made him do it out of sheer curiosity that I promise to explain. He is a good sport, that Garrett, that’s why I keep him around (see also: The Cuteness.) He goes along with these flights of fancy that I have and doesn’t even really look at me funny anymore when I write about it on the internet. Can you believe I never even put that on my wish list of Character Traits In My Dream Man? Single ladies, this trait is underrated. Add this to your lists immediately. It is worth its weight in entertainment value alone.
So I made him try on women’s jeans not because I am crazy/kinky/cool, but because we were hanging out with my family the other night and everyone kept telling him how skinny he was and how he is going to waste away to nothing and OMG DO YOU EAT? THE HORROR. Yes, he has lost some weight. Actually over 10% of his body fat since we started CrossFit and went Paleo, and now at 5’11 he weighs in at just about 175 lbs. And, whoa whoa, wait a second — that number sounds familiar doesn’t it?
That is THE number. Only, you know he’s a boy. So of course I made him try on a bunch of different jeans to figure out what size he would be in women’s clothing. And guess what? HE FITS INTO A SIZE 12. I mean what a freakin’ waif. You better watch yourself, Kate Moss.
No one can get over how svelte he looks, but you know if he was a woman, he would technically be a Plus Sized Model and most brands of “Investment Jeans” wouldn’t even sell his size, FATTY FATTY FAT PANTS.
And those Size 12 jeans he was trying on? Are the jeans that I *hope* to fit into when I get to my goal weight. My own personal skinny jeans. But the truth is, I don’t even know how I feel about that word skinny anymore anyway? Do I really want to be *skinny*? I don’t know. I’ll tell you what I do know though: I am working hard. I am a work in progress and that is okay. I am doing my best to become a healthier person so hopefully someday we can have kids and I can tell them about how their dad used to dress up in womens’ clothes. Well okay, maybe not that exactly.
I know I’m doing my best to learn about how my body works and what is healthy for me. And I’m also working hard to make sure that throughout this process I continue to look in the mirror and like what I see. Not just physically, but emotionally. And most of the time that last part involves some serious shifts in perspective. It’s a process, you all, but I’ll tell you what — if I can shift my perspective enough to listen to an entire Rob Thomas song after 10 years of wanting to stick my finger in my eye every time I hear it, then frankly I can probably shift my entire perspective on almost anything.
Look, Facebook is the devil. I know. I hear it from Garrett all the time, since he refuses to join (even though he is the only person I know who loves just about every single person he went to high school with. For real.) I once read a funny status update that said “Remember when stalking via the internet was weird and creepy? Now it’s just what we all do at work on Thursday mornings when we’re bored” and I am convinced truer words have never been spoken. I’m sure it won’t end well, and at least I’ll admit that I sometimes have a Crisis of Douchery when I’m posting about what I’m doing, or what I’m thinking or what I’m cooking — but, hey! everyone else is doing it, so why the hell not? (Though for the record, no I don’t want to jump of that bridge with you. Sorry dude, gotta draw the line somewhere.)
That said, there are moments on Facebook where the brilliance is just too, well…brilliant for me not share. So with that, I present you this Q&A for your reading enjoyment. Maybe you will learn something too!
That right there is the *Magic* of Facebook.
Seriously, I want to be blogging kitties, puppies, and unicorn farts today but I am in an oddly bad mood and practicaly giving the stink eye to old ladies on the street. I need a nap, a reboot, and to start over again tomorrow; however, a few things have made me smile today.
And for your viewing pleasure, those things are as follows:
This website via Metalia. Partly because it is hysterical, and also partly because when she tweeted it, she warned that it was slightly NSFW due to “partially nude hobos,” which, I mean come on…you can’t NOT laugh at that. It makes me very grateful that I drive my car to work.
Also, this post via Sarah Brown. I was practically snorting my iced tea, which in itself was not very funny, but the post was.
(Mmmm…Peet’s Summer House Iced Tea made me smile today. Yummy.)
Also these lame jokes:
Did you hear about the guy who was addicted to line dancing? He entered a 2 step program.
What about the guy who was addicted to drinking brake fluid? He could stop anytime he wanted.
(Via Ken Koch via Becky Johnson on Facebook. Thank you for those, Becky…really.)
And last but not least, DJ Pauly D is going to be in Sacramento on Thursday night. And if there is anything funnier than sorting through Google Images to fine a picture of Pauly D to post, I don’t know what it is.
He loves Cadillac and Peace…what a guy! I’m hoping a workout, asparagus, bacon, and pinenut pasta and some bad television will be just what the doctor ordered.
So I’m currently sitting in a terminal in LAX across from Adrian Pasdar and Milo Ventimiglia from Heroes. (And for the record, they are not doing that weird man embrace like in the picture, but strangely enough they are wearing suits.)
I’m amused that I can be in an airport and yet also blogging about this as I keep making sporadic eye contact with them (You know, in between all the text messages that I’m sending EVERYONE I KNOW WHO MIGHT THINK IT’S INTERESTING). It’s so cyber-meta. Ah, technology! So wonderful! So creepy!
I actually would not have even noticed them at all because they are rather diminutive figures, which in my experience is always the way it is with celebs, but as I was making my way up to the LAX Security Line there were a ton of paparazzi stalking away with all of their flashbulbs. It wasn’t even a huge group but I thought to myself gee, that must get so old. Can you imagine? One camera guy had even gone through security and gotten upstairs into to the carry-on scanning area (Great job, TSA). I wondered to myself if he had bought a ticket just to get up there and get a shot, or if he actually had a plane to catch and this was just a coincidence? What a bizarre lifestyle when you think about it. And one of the photogs was a girl just like me — in her 30′s, smartly dressed, looking like she just got off work at her office job.
LA is a surreal place sometime.
When I first walked into to the Southwest terminal it was like 90 degrees inside and of course I was juggling a suitcase, a giant purse, and a carryon and my sunglasses kept falling off my head and I really had to pee. It was starting to get so hot that I thought my face must be glowing, so I basically dropped everything, peeled off my jacket, and started to fan myself with my boarding pass (Operation Cool Down, by the way? TOTAL FAIL. Confidential to LAX: It’s 79 degrees outside. The heat inside? It isn’t doing anyone any favors). What I’m trying to tell you is that in that exact moment, I was so graceful and put together you could have called me Posh Fucking Spice. In fact, you should have called me that because I’m sure I also looked slightly anorexic, incredibly tan, and with perfectly coiffed hair (as usual).
So anyway, it occurred to me right then in that moment of absolute glamor, that I am so grateful that I have the luxury to be my giant mess of a self in anonymity. Did any of you catch that Britney Spears documentary (excuse me, “documentary”) on MTV the other night? What a shitshow, right? Her photog situation is unreal! I feel sorry for those having to live under a microscope. I know everyone says “Bah! They’re rich, that’s what you sign up for.” But honestly, is it worth it for millions of dollars to have your every move documented?
I’m gonna say no thanks. I mean, it never stops! If it’s not the paparrazi being all flash-bulby and annoying, then it’s some random Sacramento girl blogging about how you are wearing a suit while eating McDonald’s french fries– LIKE IT IS ACTUALLY NEWSWORTHY — all while she stares at you coyly across an airline terminal secretly wanting to know if Hayden Panettiere is as stumpy and weird looking in real life?
Surreal, I say. Surreal.
So I’m hoping that I’m out of the woods with this rummy haze I’ve been in
for the past two weeks. With some holiday extravaganzas happening and
a bout with a nasty cold that just refuses to go away, I’ve been waiting
patiently for some clarity of mind to return so I could post something
incredibly witty and useful, but I’m pretty sure that’s not going to happen.
Frankly, I’m overly crabby. Though I’ve secretly always wanted to have a really bad cold just so I can test the medicinal acuity of only whiskey and sleep — right now I am very over still being sick — and when I’m feeling sorry for myself for being sick, everything starts pissing me off it seems.
1. Why do people mistake the word Bravado for Brave. Just because you
add an -ADO onto the end of a word, does not make it more fancy. It actually does what I like to call, CHANGES THE MEANING YOU IDIOT! And just because something almost sounds like something else…doesn’t mean it is something else. Isn’t this like one of those things we learned in Kindergarten?
2. Why do people assume when they have any kind of sore throat that they have strep throat? For the record, strep throat is a very specific virus, which you must be tested for to confirm. Just because you wake up in the morning and your throat hurts a little and it happens to be Winter, DOESN’T MEAN YOU HAVE STREP!!!!!! These are the same stupid people who think you get a cold from it “being” cold. Once again, I know they sound similar, but they are NOT THE SAME.
3. Piggy backing on that — Attention people with headaches: just because
you are incredibly put out when your head hurts “really bad” does not mean you have a migraine. Migraines, as well, are a very specific type of headache. Unless you have a license to practice medicine or you ate a brain tumor for breakfast, I’m pretty sure you probably don’t have one, and I’m definitely sure you can’t diagnose it. So don’t. There are lots of people to whom you can pay exorbitant amounts of money to do that for you…and there are even more people you can pay exorbitant amounts of money to create little pills you can take for it. And by “it”, I mean the stupidity that’s being cultivated in your brain that is clearly causing it to hurt!
4. Why does anyone in their right mind re-heat any sort of exceptionally
spicy, fishy, meaty (read: stinky) food in a confined space? Does that make any sense? Maybe fish head stew, or oxtail casserole, or plates of quivering beef taste good to you — and that’s fine. I’m very proud of you, and not knocking your taste in cuisine. But if the smell makes me want to vomit, then I’m pretty sure it might make a few other people want to vomit as well, and might I remind you, we are in a confined space, and vomiting is not what we’re trying to do here, remember?
5. And while I’m at it — Who hell carts their dogs around in a BABY STROLLER? Why is Paris Hilton famous? And why can’t Britney cover up her lady parts?