Junky Fitness

Many who know me well are aware that I am in favor of consuming most things excessively tasty. Cookies, ice cream, chips, and my most recent obsession... Popcorn.

If there was one picture that I felt so completely encapsulated my inner carnivorous being it would have to be Hyperbole and a Half's picture....

Anyhoo, on the side of the spectrum that is intended to cancel all that out...

Fitness.

I sincerely promise you that I have, at a couple of my weakest emotional points in the past, cried about working out. (Please take into account my previous anemia)

It't not that I'm a wuss. I just would rather have my three wishes from the genie. (R.I.P. Robin Williams)

I have, since that point, gained some emotional and physical stamina so I'm able and willing to try the whole fitness deal.

Now, take a step back and look at presented options for attempting to be physically fit.

1) Home Workout Routines.

Been there, tried that. I just don't have the self discipline to set aside time at home when I'm comfy being a potato.

2) Gym.

If I'm paying I will feel the obligation to go.
Downside?
Gym girls.
I mean seriously.
It's like I found the other place the skinny, white, blonde chicks in Starbucks congregate.

And yes there are other ways like biking and running.
I like biking a lot.

Running is definitely another story.
I tried it once.

Blood, sweat, and asthma.

Not. Pretty.

So, I made my decision to join the gym. As it turns out, you can avoid a lot of psycho gym people if you go on a Friday night when it's mostly only the few average people without dates utilizing the space.

At least I can usually provide some entertainment for the staff and members.
Struggling with 5 and 10 pound weights, it seems, can be quite amusing to onlookers.

But here's to all the people who enjoy fatty food but try and fail, and try and fail, and try and fail, etc. to do something to battle the onslaught of weight gain!
HOORAH for Junky Fitness!!!

We may not get it the first time.
We may not be perfect clean eaters.
We may take a bit longer to get there.
BUT WE WILL TRY!

And of course...

If at first you don't succeed, try try again :)

Insanity isn't all that bad...

I have realized that one must embrace the insanity that one cannot escape. For every one of us there is some sort of daunting task or accomplishment that gives our inner selves the symptoms of losing our sanity.

Sometimes it is because we are so busy accomplishing that task to do anything else.

And sometimes it's because we bit off more than we could chew when taking on the task in the first place.

For myself, the latter is true. 

When one must take college classes it helps to be knowledgeable as to what one is getting themself into. After having an entire semester of 4 classes under my belt I felt pretty confident when I registered for my second semester. However, I should have known better. 

A lab class, even though it is only one credit hour, has the same amount of work (if not more) as a regular 3 credit hour class.

I didn't know this when I registered.

So here I am swamped with work because I have 4 regular classes PLUS 2 labs.

You would think that by now I would know that giving up any attempt at a social life would be the wise thing to do but nooooo... I've decided to be stupid.

What's the point of insanity if you are never around any people to be frightened by it?

Display it for all to see! You've lost your dignity already so you might as well embrace it.

I know I have. I'm a bonafide nutcase. 

Now add a little insomnia to the mix.

On the average day I am either:

1) sleepy and unproductive all day or

2) temporarily hyper and talkative from coffee until it wears off and I become sleepy and unproductive

One of the only ways I can "handle" this lifestyle is by living one day at a time.

I can't look ahead a week.

I can't look ahead two days.

I do what I need to do one day at a time.

It sucks but one must cope with insanity some way or another.

My other way is with Nutella but we won't dwell on my unnecessary weight gain from high stress and chocolaty goodness.

Rendered Immobile

Let's take a break to look into my past. We shall go back even before the middle school phase where braces and acne to me were like taxes and a mortgage to an adult. We are going back to elementary school when my biggest concern was monsters and burglars.

Now don't feel sorry for my younger self while reading this. I have a very imaginative brain and when I was younger it ran rampant. No Joys were harmed in the making of this story.

I always feared going to bed. Always. I thought my strewn clothes were actually something trying to kill me, and don't even get me started on my closet doors.

One night in my childhood I woke up and got out of bed to go to the bathroom. Still sleepy and foggy eyed I stumbled into the bathroom and closed the door. I squeezed my eyes shut to turn on the light and slowly I opened them and became used to the bright florescents shining above me.

I finished up and washed my hands. I still had not thought of the time of night or the quiet throughout the rest of the house. I then turned to open the bathroom door...

Thoughts began racing through my head.

There is something right outside the door.

RIGHT THERE.

IT'S PROBABLY A GIANT SPIDER OR A CLOWN!

My hand hovered over the doorknob as I tried to pluck up my courage... I failed. I was frozen with fright. My eyes bulged as I listened for... well... nothing.

I slowly lowered myself onto the edge of the tub and sat as still as I could.

And there I sat.

For at least an hour I sat. The entire time I was trying to convince myself to open the door.

Of course there's nothing there. If I open the door there will be nothing there and I can go to be-- NO! WHAT IF THERE IS SOMETHING THERE?! THEN I'LL DIE!

It was a lost cause. I found some old towels and lined the tub with them so I could at least relax a little. I then lay down and... Fell asleep.

My dad found me the next morning curled up in the tub and, like a good dad, shut off the light and left me to sleep where I was.

Now I try to keep it a habit to sleep in my bed but there are sometimes when measures like this are necessary. I rest assured knowing that if there was a clown, or spider, or burglar outside my bathroom door... I SURE SHOWED 'EM!

More recently...

It was an especially terrible morning to be waking up. My alarm was blaring obnoxiously and I was groggy as all get out. I had started to climb down out of my loft bed when my foot slipped on the ladder...

WHOOOOOOSH!--SMACK!

Is this an acceptable way to start my morning?

So I went back to sleep. On my fizzy pink carpet. At the bottom of my ladder in a crumpled heap.

Now I don't wear socks to bed.

Fondue, I am Fond of You

Not even a week ago I remember commenting to someone that fondue was one of the silliest things I had ever heard of. I mean, melted cheese? And you eat it? I like cheese but...

Last night I went to a restaurant with a handful of my favorite people ever. It was a very high class fondue restaurant. My aunt and uncle paid for us cousins to enjoy a lovely dinner in honor of my cousin, the bride-to-be.

So... We (the six of us) were seated. We, of course, begin to discuss what we will be eating. 

"We'll be doing the four-course dinner," Bride announced. 

Go weak my heart for bliss that fills my soul.

STILL my doubt for cheese fondue is present in my mind so I am awaiting the first course tentatively. 

It arrived. Two fondue pots with two kinds of cheese. We all pulled forth our pokers and I wielded mine with gallant bravery as I stabbed a square of crusty bread and submerged it in the cheese.

Fondue by any other name would taste as delicious. I need not say any more about this melted wonder.

Second Course: Caesar Salad. Obviously delicious.

The third course was fun! We got to cook out own meat! 

But honestly. The fourth course was the best. CHOCOLATE FONDUE!

I dipped brownies in it. I dipped strawberries in it. I dipped cheesecake in it. I dipped rice krispies in it. I dipped red velvet cake in it. It was the most amazing chocolatey goodness in the entire world.

Take all the happiness you can imagine, multiply it by infinity, pour it into a bowl and add contentment and love, then bake it into a cake and eat it with happiness filling your heart, then take a nap. 

And that is how happy chocolate fondue makes a woman.

Dangit. Now I'm hungry.

Oxymorons and Candid Camera

So. Yesterday I completed yet another one of my music video thingy-ma-bobs.

Link Here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DhFtjPfSxEM&feature=plcp

I never really thought about it before but just a few moments ago I started to. "Stop motion". Just that. Those words. Put together. I realized that as much as it makes sense in the way it is applied it really makes no sense at all when thought about.

Quite intriguing.

Anyhoo, on to something else.

Well, not entirely. I used the song "Fly" by Nicki Minaj for my music video.

For those of you who don't know, Nicki Minaj is the crazy rapper girl who stirs up a breeze with her fake eyelashes and gets hair color ideas from Crayola crayons. But hey, the song is catchy.

There is one small difference between this song and all my others however. It's sorta a rap.

Looking up the lyrics I was just like "Oh this is a relatively short song. Should be easy."

Half way through I was beginning to wonder if I would have to finish the pictures by candlelight. Daylight was fading fast.

Something to take into consideration: Rap songs have a lot more words condensed into a shorter amount of time.

Since you have probably never done what I do let me give you an example of how frantically I was taking pictures...

Step 1) Set wireless mouse on the floor
Step 2) Take pictures by clicking with your toe
Pros: You can use both hands to write up sticky notes and pose hand gestures and such
Cons: Your foot occasionally relaxes slightly and you end up taking accidental pictures of yourself, say... rubbing your nose?

Next thought: "What the heck?"

Yes folks that really does happen. 

...But really only to those of us who are brilliant enough to take pictures with our toes.

The Eight Legged (Pronounced "Leg-Ed") Beast

Here I sit. Heart pounding but the adrenaline wearing off.

It was a beast. I saw it as I entered my room. It had 8 legs and who knows how many eyes. It lurked in the shadows and awaited my approach. I immediately took action.

I grabbed my baton. My fighting baton. (My Rock Band drumstick). and lunged at my foe. He shrank back just out of reach and farther into the deep, darkened crevices of my room. I lost a visual and began frantically rearranging the nearest furniture, carefully and skillfully however, so as not to disturb my enemy's temporary feeling of safety.

When I located my foe once more I tried again with my baton to lure him out of the shadows. Instead he sank deeper! My heart was pounding now and my hands shaking with fear. I could only visualize in my head what would happen if this monstrosity should live and remain in my corner of the house. How many sleepless nights would I endure should this go on?!

I focused all my energy in thinking clearly now, despite my inner desire to run. Then I thought, how could I have forgotten such an important detail??? I reached for the best slaying weapon I have ever used in my entire life. The orange flip flop.

The beast was behind the bookshelf now. I grasped the front with both hands and slid it away from the wall. Clutching my torch (miniature travel flashlight) I located mine enemy. The flip flop was poised in midair as I planned my attack.

*SMACK*

I had decided on the "Scare then Smash" tactic (developed by me).

The foe skittered blindly away from the almost blow that had been delivered by the flip flop.

*WHACK*

An unfortunate miss but I was not to be discouraged. If anything I was now bent more then ever on destroying this beastie.

*SPLAT*

...


'Nuf said.

Say "Ahhhhh"

It is typical for most if not all people that when you go to the dentist at some point the hygienist will tell you to say "Ahhhh". The story I am about to recount is the story of how my "Ah" got stuck.

It started out as any other day... then I fell off my 6ft tall bed. Just, ya know, the usual things.

My alarm clock went off so I sat up and went to climb off my loft bed. My foot was only on the top wrung but I slipped off and went careening to the floor where I lay for a few minutes till I fell asleep once more.

Later on (mid afternoon) I had a dentist appointment. No biggy. I've never been afraid of the dentist. (Never had any cavities either). So I go and take a seat in the ever comfortable electronic reclining chair they use. The hygienist began working at my teeth and soon my mouth was opened nice and wide (I've always been good about that). She finished whatever she had been doing in my mouth for the moment and turned to switch tools so I went to close my mouth but I couldn't!

My mouth was stuck open.

Apparently I dislocated my jaw by opening too wide.Talk about terrifying though... Eternal gaping.

So calmly I said "Ah cahn't cloth eye owth"... The hygienist turned to me and said "You can't? Try for me." No offense but.. I JUST DID. Anyways I demonstrated how I couldn't so she went and got my dentist.

The dentist comes in a minute later with a smile on her face while saying something to the affect of "everything will be just fine." She then proceeded to take a seat next to me and began trying to manipulate my jaw around... Rather aggressively. Well, my jaw then cramped. The muscles literally spazzed out. So besides the fact that my mouth was in the fixated position of being open, it now hurt like heck.

Lovely.

So my dentist goes "Well you sure are stuck, you just sit tight for a minute". ha, ha... I learned a few minutes later that she was calling my oral surgeon to see if he could see me and get my jaw back in place himself. The hygienist then came back in and told me that my mum would take me to my oral surgeon's office. So I got up (You would not believe how much a dislocated jaw effects walking) and went out to the waiting room.

A side not: I was aware this whole time that, even though I was in rather a serious pickle, it sure probably LOOKED humorous. Unfortunate for me...

Anyhoo, my mum and I then walked out to get in the car and drive to the oral surgeon. We were almost to the car when, wonder of wonders, my jaw relaxed and closed nicely into place. I did a small happy laugh then instantly began bawling my eyes out.

You see, when your mouth is stuck open it's a very odd situation and you don't really realize how much you wanted to cry during the whole ordeal until it's over.

We still drove over to the oral surgeon's office to get an X-ray of my jaw, just to be sure it was now where it was supposed to be. It was. HALLELUJAH!

So now that's it's all over I unofficially have a sprained jaw. Fortunately this is a very good excuse to eat ice cream ;)