Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Funky Town

For the past few months up until very recently I've been in a funky funk about working out. Probably because my stomach's being an asshole. ("Well ma'am, after extensive testing we've found that your stomach has, in fact, turned itself into an asshole. There's nothing we can do.") After a zillion dollars worth of testing over a few months due to a couple of scary episodes, my doc finally determined that I have idiopathic gastroparesis, which means my stomach doesn't contract and push food through like it should, and they have no idea why it's being an ornery little bitch about it. And it will probably be this way forever. (But hey, at least it's not cancer!) It makes eating difficult and painful a lot of the time (all of the time), so I have to eat really small portions more often throughout the day so my stomach doesn't get too full. Now that I know what's wrong, I can manage it without meds or surgery. The silver lining is that's exactly how we're supposed to eat anyway. Boom, I'm totally nailing this. 


The cool thing is that I can eat whatever I want. Literally anything. I can't stomach enough for calories to even matter. Cheesecake? Yep. Burgers? Yep. Pizza? Yep. I take a few bites, maybe eat half a burger and I'm stuffed almost uncomfortably. Eating half a burger maxes me out. No fries or anything. Eating a whole burger feels like I ate three helpings of a Thanksgiving feast, y'all. It's the worst and I have to lay down until it passes (hours) lest I vom and pass out on you. (Not a good look.)

It sounds like every fat kid's dream disease, doesn't it? The hard part is timing my meals and workouts. Eating enough food to have the energy to crush it at the gym or on a long run without stomach pain/nausea/etc. is proving difficult, but I'm working on it. Also the debilitating stomachache that comes after eating too much is pretty lame.

For a while I backed off the gym entirely. It was exhausting. Every time I would go it made me feel worse because I just couldn't get to the level I was used to. My feet would drag on the treadmill or I'd have to stop at 2 sets of bicep curls. Then afterwards I had to lay down to recoup. It made me feel old and lazy and sick and fragile - none of which are words I would use to describe myself. So I pulled myself out of it. I can tackle this problem like all my other life problems - with equal parts logic, trial and error and charisma (duh). I've been having good luck with a high lean protein diet, and shakes are my jam. I like protein shakes because I can drink them slowly over an extended period of time, and gravity naturally pulls the liquid through my stomach faster than solid food (science!), although it still takes hours.

The point is, I've been in a slump. A down. A funk. A bullshit phase and I'm tired of it. I'm on my way back up, getting ready to donkey punch the Tough Mudder this fall.


Buhlee dat.

Friday, July 18, 2014

Frisky Friday: Nudies

Remember when you had to take your pictures to get them developed in order to see what the pictures were? As in, you didn't get to see them immediately and delete all the failed selfies with poor lighting and too many chins? And nekkid pictures? Fuuuuuuuuck that. I'm not down with the minimum wage Walgreens employee seeing my vajay, mkay? 

Thank goodness we have smartphones now that make it easy peasy lemon squeezy to send and save nudies from our boner-cams. Likewise, it's perfectly easy to post said nudies on the internet for all eyes to see. Case in point:


This isn't me.
I repeat: This isn't me.
I mean, yeahhhh it's totally me and that's exactly what I look like half naked.
Sure.

I don't know the story behind the above picture or the girl in it. (In fact, if this is you and you're offended that I posted it, I'll take it down. Just tell me.) All I know is it fell into my lap when my gym bro told me he found dirty pictures of me on the internet. For a minute, I was scared y'all. I mean, I was pretty sure that no one I've sent pictures to would post them publicly, but you never really know. (We'll get to that in a minute.) So he sent it to me and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, because thank Stormtrooper Jesus it's not me. (But damn girl, look at you with your blonde hair, black glasses and perky ass.)

I feel like the nudie rules are loosely defined, similar to sex tape rules. (I mean, for shit's sake guys. Stop making sex tapes with dill holes and then maybe they won't be released into the world for everyone's viewing pleasure.) People are sending half nekkid pics with little to no contact with a person. How do you know they aren't going to show all of their friends? You don't. How do you know they aren't posting them somewhere publicly? You don't. Why would you just let someone see all of your business without making them work for it? Don't get me wrong, I'm definitely pro-nudie. Let's just not be so carefree about it, okie dokie?

So when do you send nudies? You have to trust who you're sending them to. That means you probably have to have at least met them in person. AT LEAST. And even then, I've met a lot of people in person that I don't want to see me naked. You should also be age appropriate. (Don't be gross.)

Boobs aren't special. They're everywhere, all the time. A dime a dozen. Titties just flopping around. What makes them special is who they're attached to. 

Neither are dick pics. Guys. GUYS. Nobody wants to see your meat party. See above re: not special.

DON'T GET YOUR FACE IN THE PICTURE. Because you never really know a person's intentions. At least if your relationship/fuck buddy/sexting/whatever poor choices you're making ends badly, you'll just be another pair of boobs on the internet instead of OMG NERKY BOOBS ON THE INTERNET.

Same with unique tattoos. If I send an ass picture and my Always tattoo is visible on my side, you're gonna know it's my ass. I don't want you to know it's my ass, strangers. 

The general theme is you should CYA (metaphorically) by not sending nudies to assbags. It's better for everyone if you care about the person attached to the body in the picture. I definitely want nudies when I'm in a relationship with someone because they're fun and exciting and super sexy (aka fap fuel). It's finding a person deserving of my nudies that's challenging. (But worth it.)

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

GIRLS

I've never been puhticuluhly girly. As a kid I had 3 older brothers that mostly just beat the shit out of me because they beat the shit out of each other (non-discriminatory ass-whoopin'). We watched TMNT and Dukes of Hazard and got muddy playing outside. I missed the boat on Indian Princesses and ballet classes or whatever little girls do. My BFF taught me how to use roll-on glitter in the mid 90s and that was my intro into girl world. I glittered the everlivin' out of my face until she taught me how to apply blue sparkly eye shadow up to my eyebrows, then it was game on. I rocked that shit all through middle school like a fuggin' gangsta.

Before someone told me about glitter and make-up, I was just a kid having fun being a kid. I couldn't've (yesssssss, double contraction) cared less about hair bows or make-up or what I was wearing. What changed me? 

I dunno, maybe the female celebrities in the media dressing like sweet little prostitutes had something to do with it.



Tween Nerk: Oh, this is what it means to be a girl? I'm not sure I'm ready to suggestively gyrate my ass into someone, but I guess I should probably at least dye my hair and put on some a ton of make-up, right? And I'm definitely wearing too many clothes. I should show more skin - then people will think I'm pretty for sure.

Forget having a beautiful mind or soul. You gotta fake it til you make it. 

That's why it's so awesome that on the heels of Miley Cyrus and her various scantily clad twerk-offs and whatever other young celebrities and their antics that I'm too old to give a shit about, Colbie Caillat released a "be yourself because you're stuck with you and it's better to like yourself than to hate who you've become" music video. Girl power! (FIST PUMP)


If that doesn't work, click HERE for the video

It's a good reminder - am I working out to better myself or to impress other people? (For myself.) Do I wear heels because I like them or so that I look good for other people? (Mostly because I like them, but not always.) Do I put on make-up every day for me or because I want to fit in with the pretty girls? (Jury's out.) Lately I've been doing a much better job about not giving a rat's vagina about what people think of me, and what a weight that's been lifted. Would you believe that as a grown-ass woman I still get made fun of for being a nerd? To those people I say, BYE FELICIA. It makes me thankful that I don't have a little girl to raise because other little girls (and women) are mean as shit. I'll just have work on raising my little boy to be a respectful, polite man.

God, enough preaching, amiright? I just really love the message of this song. I hope young girls listen to it and think twice about midriff-bearing shirts and shorts that let their ass hang out. Confidence is way more attractive than slutty clothes to the right man (or woman, if you're into that). And thank the lawd roll-on body glitter isn't a thing anymore.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

Tough Mudder

I did a thing.

Last night at around 12:17am I signed up for the Dallas Tough Mudder. (shit shit shit shit shit shitAs soon as the confirmation page popped up, all I thought was "Oh sweet Jesus why did I do that. Why." (Related: It turns out I'm a late night impulse buy masochist.)



Probably because my brother asked me if I wanted to do it ages ago and it piqued my interest. Then I read about it and wondered if I could handle it or if I wanted to train for something that intense insane. Then read this Buzzfeed "___ reasons this is lolz" post and agreed with the sarcasm, so I talked myself out of it.

Then I decided I needed to stop being a little bitch about it because ain't nobody got time fo' dat and I know I'll regret it if I don't do it, so it's on like Donkey Kong. They even make you sign a death waiver, y'all. A death waiver.

I have 3 months to get ready to tackle this beast. I bought some bitch mittens so I can bro-down hard on the weights at the gym. Gotta keep those hands callous-free like a fucking lady.

Have y'all done a Tough Mudder? Did you live to tell the tale?

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Wonder Woman Heels Tutorial

Hi, my name is (irrelevant because everyone calls me) Nerky, and I drank more alcohol this past weekend than I have for the entirety of 2014 so far.

It feels good to get that off my chest.

I also discovered something about myself. I'm now the person that says, "Shit yeah, bring your kids!" to parties and/or BBQs. When did everyone grow up and start procreating? I thought about this as all the adults at my impromptu 4th of July BBQ were doing shots on shots on shots of tuaca in my kitchen as the kids played blissfully with my son's Legos in the living room. I wonder if our parents did that. (Probably, those fuckin' party animals.)

After all the fun at my house on Friday, my kid went to his dad's house on Saturday night. Not too long ago, that would have meant leather shorts, sky high heels and trouble with my girlfriends at a local club. Glad I got that shit out of my system before I caught something. (Like a cold, perverts.) Now it means a night in with some wine, a good friend and some yoga pants. Three bottles of wine and two musicals later, I had a fierce new pair of sky high heels. Old habits die hard.


I've seen comic books heels before (here and here and here and lots more). Ain't nobody trying to take credit for this idea. Alls I'm sayin' is, why am I gonna pay $70-$100 for something I can make for fie dollah worth of comics, a little glitter and an old pair of shoes I haven't worn in years? Plus, none of the Wonder Woman heels I found were cute enough. I guess if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. (twss)

These were shockingly easy to make. You'll need:
- Old comic books
- Mod podge
- Paint and glitter in the same color
- Shoes


Step One: (Cut a hole in a box.) Procure some shoes you don't mind defacing.

While I worked on the shoes, my friend painted her nails.
It was a girls night, after all.

Some people buy boats or motorcycles when they get divorced. I bought shoes. This pair was my first post-divorce shoe purchase and I bought them solely because I liked how tall they were and nobody was there to tell me not to spend money on shoes. Too bad they ugly tho. It's cool, I fixed them.

Step Two: Pour yourself a cup of wine, and keep it flowing.

Wine glasses are for chumps and Republicans.

Not pictured: Tipsy off-key singing along with Chicago, the first of two musicals we watched. 

I think I could have completed this project in half the time had I skipped this step, but where's the fun in that?

Step Three: Cut up your comics and start gluing with the mod podge. It's really that simple.

Notice the empty wine bottle. One down!

It took me 3 comics worth to get enough good Wonder Woman pieces to cover both shoes. That roughly translates to about $5-7 depending on where you get them.

Pro tip: Trim the pieces that fold over into the shoe before the final coat of mod podge, or else they will irritate your feetsies.

Not pictured: Tipsy off-key singing along with the only lyric we knew from Rent, the second musical we watched. (525,600 minutes)

Step Four: Once you have all of your comics glued, paint the heel and sole. I wanted a blue sparkly heel, so I painted it cobalt blue first with some craft paint so that in the event the glitter flakes off, it's still blue (da ba dee da ba die)

And as a bonus, that's my friend Angela passed out on the couch.

The shoe in the foreground already has glitter and the one in the background is just blue paint. It was after I took this picture that I decided to also pain the sole - Louboutin style. (Blue-boutin, amiright?)

Once your paint and glitter is dry, apply a liberal coat of mod podge to the whole thing to seal them and let it dry. Ta-da - fierce mother truckin' Wonder Woman shoes!

I wore them out on Sunday night to see how they held up. I walked around a lot outside and rode in an invisible airplane on a motorcycle and they're still perfectly in tact! I would avoid getting them wet though.

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Mickie D's

Last night I took my kid to McDonald's because he wanted to go. It wasn't a cheat meal or a special occasion. Sometimes we just go to McDonald's because it's a kid place with kid stuff. Here's the thing, I don't really like McDonald's. I used to. I used to like it a lot. Sure, I watched Super Size Me, but how could I pass up that dollar menu? I was po'. Hello, lover double cheeseburger and fries for less than $3. 

True story: I liked McDonald's so much that I went and stood in line 29 weeks pregnant outside in the Texas summer heat during a grand opening so I could get a coupon for free Big Macs for a year. Dafuq was wrong with me?

Oh right, I was fat.

Did y'all make a bump scrapbook when you were preggo?
I used to have time for craft projects.
Probably because I never exercised or cooked.

You know how you do that thing with your arm to make it look skinny in pictures? You put your hand on your hip and make sure your arm isn't touching you? (Chubsters know all the tricks to take off a few pounds in pictures, aside from actually losing weight of course.) I thought I was doing that in the picture above. I was wrong. After losing weight I asked my best friend why she never told me I got fat (we made a pact to tell each other in the event we got too fat to be cute when we were teenagers, like girls do), and she swears that she never noticed, so I made her an optometrist appointment. Turns out she's blind.

Anyway, my point is that I would have married a sausage, egg and cheese McGriddle if I wasn't already hitched and with child.

That was ages ago though and I'm a much different person now. I rarely eat fast food because I've found that it makes me ragey. When I do eat it, I always steer clear of the value meals. Cokes are wasted calories and the size of those sandwiches plus fries is absurd. My kid and I split a mighty kids meal - that's the one with 6 nugs, fries, apples and yogurt. We were both satiated, and he even got a junky piece of plastic toy. That doesn't sound like enough food for dinner, does it? It is when you eat every couple of hours like I do. I had some broccoli and a hard baked egg at around 4:30, Nosy Nancy.

Same side booth sitting is okay with your kid.
Not any other time though. 

Going to a fast food joint every so often (probably) isn't going to kill anyone. So we go. We eat nuggets and fries and play in the urine and grease stained play place. Whatever, I'd do anything for that smile.

Happy Fourth of July this weekend! May everyone reading this get laid, for God and Country.

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Welcome to Costco, I love you

Costco - the beacon of life in suburbia with its plus-sized food, carts and people. Welcome to 'Merica, land of ALL THE FOOD ALL THE TIME. Do I need a pizza that's bigger than my oven? YEP. Can I afford the dental bill if I eat this bulk package of 35 candy bars? YOLO. Will I live long enough to use all of this toilet paper? MAYBS.



I have a Costco membership, which seems silly since 1.5 people live in my house. Whatev, it's something I won in my divorce and I kept it up because I like their produce. Also they have good toys around the holidays. Also my friends use me to get into the econo-pack wonderland for free samples and sweet deals on vats of mustard. (Also I didn't know it would automatically renew.)

I don't do Costco like most of the rest of the nation, though. Just because you CAN buy a big package of 50 little packages of donuts doesn't mean you should. Just because you CAN stay up however late you want and eat candy for dinner every night doesn't mean you should. I put my big girl panties on and steer clear of the packaged food aisles. Ain't nobody got time fo' processed food and/or rampant obesity.

The blue box barely visible on the bottom left is a gargantuan box of tampons.
I hope I don't reach menopause before I use them all.
The bottle of pills in the middle is Xanax. You get that for free when you walk in.

My plan of attack: Buy all the veggies. Go home and cook enough for the week. Freeze the rest, even spinach - it's perf for smoothies. Sometimes I split the monster bags of veggies with other people. I mean, that's a lot of fuggin' broccoli for one damn person, and that bag o' spinach is bigger than I am.

Things I tend to buy at Costco vs. a regular grocery store:
- Berries. Shitbitch dem raspberries are good. I always get razzies and bloobs there, and occasionally blackberries for the kid. I'm not a huge fan of blacks. (BlackBERRIES.)
- Chicken sausage. I like the chicken and apple one and it doesn't expire immediately and it comes in 3 separate sealed packages so you don't have to cook it all at once. Excellent.
- Applesauce, gum, tampons, protein bars. All things I use regularly enough to justify buying in bulk. (I MacGyver tools and weapons from them.)
- Nutella. Just kidding, I only think Nutella is OKAY. But for people that love it, you can get a 2 pack of huge jars for like $9. I can hear you drooling, guys. Keep it together.
- Toys. During the holidays they have awesome toys for cheap. No brainer.
- Costco brand laundry detergent. (That's Kirkland for you n00bs.) It's inexpensive and smells nice, just like my mail order husband.

Just don't go on a Sunday, whatever you do. You may not make it out alive.