Friday, July 3, 2015

This Week

Jon Snow is the clear winner with 78% in the epic bike naming vote of 2015. HOWEVER, a new promising name emerged in the comments and I have to give it a fair shot, so the only answer here is to vote again, winner takes all.

What should I name my bike - part II

Jon Snow
Winter
Poll Maker

Because Winter is coming.

Speaking of naming vehicles, I traded in the Momllennium Falcon for a new mom-mobile on Wednesday and now I'm burdened with the weight of coming up with the perfect name for it. It's a hybrid SUV (black), aka the epitome of suburbia. It's the car version of themed BBQs. 

I discovered that my kid hates goggles, and here's proof.


It's pretty much the greatest picture I've ever taken of him.

My favorite comment of the week because y'all make me lol:

From Monday's bike naming post:
WINTER IS COMING.
WINTERFELL.
It's all so perfect.
Henceforth, the re-vote.

Have a happy fourth of July! Don't shoot your fingers off with homemade fireworks. Or do whatever you want, they're your fingers.

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

July 1

Y'all, today is the anniversary of my first date with my manfriend.

He's the reason I know how to make turkey meatloaf, cook eggplant and adjust my ballcock. He made my kid a real propeller for the airplane I painted on the wall after we had only been dating for like 5 minutes. Handy and thoughtful? Aight, I ain't mad about it. Plus he's good with wood (heh) and makes me cool stuff too.

Nightstand styling on fleek.
He made the Deathly Hallows bookmark.
Glasses holder is from World Market a few years ago.
Lamp is Ikea.
And while we're at it, table is flea market and book is Amazon.

I'm the reason he has taken selfies, cleaned his house and wears shirts with sleeves or no shirt at all.

We bond over Star Wars memes, stuffed crust pizza and seeing how many calories we can burn during a workout on our heart rate monitors (swolemates). He ran a 5k with me once and I did his P90X workout with him once because we care about each others interests. He never puts ketchup on my food because he knows I don't like it. One day he'll buy me my very own sriracha to keep at his house and that's how I'll know he's in it to win it.

And it all started because I posted a joke profile on a dating website. It's a relationship built on lolz, stuffing food in our mouths and burning calories (mostly in that order), so we're basically crushing it.

Cheers.

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Let's Vote!

Note: Is it too late to make my blog rainbowy? Has the moment passed? I've been going nonstop since Friday, so sincerest apologies for delayed equality rainbows. I'll leave it up all week to make up for lost time. What an exciting moment in history to witness, right? Listen, I don't care if you're gay, Christian, black, Asian, female, Jewish, Republican or Atheist. We're all people who deserve equal treatment under the law even if our personal belief systems differ from each other, and specifically, from lawmakers. High fives for steps toward equality! Now let's work on that glass ceiling.

Real post now:
I bought a bike, y'all. It majestic and white (like me, coincidence?) and now I need a name for it.

Bear just wants to lick the cardboard until it loves him.
He's old.

What do you think? I have to roll in the realm of Game of Thrones here. So White...walker? White...bike? White...peddler? No, those are LAME. My friend brought up Longclaw, aka Jon Snow's sword, but I cannot imply that I'm going for a ride on Jon Snow's sword every time I take it out. I just can't.

Not that I'd mind.

Snow is white. How about Jon Snow? Then every time I pass someone I can say "For the watch" and every time I have a flat or other problem, I can say "You know nothing Jon Snow".

IT'S PERFECT.

Except what about Khaleesi? My red bike is Queen B (B for BIKE), seems fitting that this one should be a Queen, too. When I pass people, I can say "Dracarys", and obviously I'd have to rig it to shoot fire out of the pedals. And when the shit hits the fan I can say "I'm not going to stop the wheel, I'm going to break the wheel" with a British accent.

It's tough, y'all. I need your help because this is very serious important business. In the spirit of 'Merica and democracy, let's vote!

What should I name my bike?

Jon Snow
Khaleesi
Poll Maker


We have time to vote since it's still in pieces in my living room, because out of all of the choices in my allen wrench set, the one that's missing is the one I need. Figures.

Bike: Deconstructed

Imagine it much more regal. And whole. Now VOTE because it's fun! If you have a better and more awesome name, leave it in the comments. 

Friday, June 26, 2015

This week

Let's PARTY! This is the first time in a LONG time that I've had a blog post every day for a week. High fives all around for ignoring my kid!

I'm realizing the serious bummer that it is that my son deleted my non-backed-up phone a couple of weeks ago. TOTALLY my fault for not backing it up. But still, I lost pictures all the way back to Christmas. (SAD FACE)

I ate expired oatmeal on Monday because I like to live on the edge. And because I had the most terrible yogurt as my alternative option - Chobani 100 calories or light or whatever they call it. Other Chobanis are GREAT. The 100 cal option? Nah, bro. I took a bite and decided I'd risk gut rumblings from expired food before I finished it. I do like the Kroger brand 100 calorie Greek yogurt though. Recommend.

My neighbor has a lawn ornament of a cat riding a bike with rainbow wheels and now I can't put anything in my yard because they immediately win.

Or maybe I just need to get more serious about a quest for epic yard decor.

This week in thanks-for-being-awesome:

One of you sent me a Starbucks gift card in response to my newly acquired gold member status, and it MADE MY DAY. My daddy didn't raise no ungrateful daughter, but I don't have any contact info for you so I made you this:


I am VERY excited to use it to buy the person's coffee behind me in the drive thru to start a giving chain of unknown duration.

My favorite comment of the week because y'all make me lol:

From Instagram.
It stemmed from her initially misreading my shirt.
Y'all are hilarious.

I hope you all get to get day drunk at the pool this weekend! Also, follow me on twitter and tweet me something hilarious and then I'll tweet you something hilarious and then we'll all laugh and laugh and briefly forget that our property taxes went up or that the car needs new tires or that douche at work was being particularly douchey. Deal? Deal.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Danceaton

Do you ever get anxious? I do. Being in a room full of strangers stresses me out. I generally don't make eye contact with people in public because oh god what if somebody talks to me. I'm sweaty just thinking about it. Honesty bomb: I'm super shy around new people and RILL awkward. I ramble too much and then leave long awkward silences to make up for it. My cheeks turn red very easily, and having flushed cheeks is the cherry on top of a perfect encounter. I don't do well speaking in front of a group either - I run on pure adrenaline and talk too fast and run the risk of passing out every time.

It's a thing I just deal with. Like my asshole stomach and the dangers of driving a car every day. People are all weird and those are some of my weird things. Maybe by powering through, I'll force myself to get better over time? Hopefully. Once I get comfortable with people, I can relax and be more conversational, but that first encounter is always awkward. 

So yesterday, everything was going according to plan for the Danceton (I have no idea how to pronounce that) class I did at lunch. I walked in just as it was starting and took a spot on the back row to be invisible. I had an awesome time twerking to the beat and booty bouncing (same thing..?) for a while until, all of a sudden about 20 minutes in, the instructor lost her damn mind and left her raised platform at the front and came to the back and started dancing there. We all turned around and, you guys, that put me on the front row. In a room full of strangers. The very first time I tried this class. I almost hyperventilated. I CANNOT TWERK UNDER THESE CONDITIONS. I'm sweating again. She only stayed there for one song and then went back to her platform, thank the lawd, but sweet Jesus I could feel my heart beating in my ears and I almost passed out.

But hey, I survived it and if I can survive the danceton incident of 2015, you can get your ass up and get your workout in today. Boom, motivation. 

Butt goals.
If you can crack a walnut with your butt cheeks, please send a video immediately.
No weirdos.

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Tommie Copper compression sleeve review (totally not an ad)

Y'all, I'm batting a thousand this week as far as posts to days. Well, to business days. Who's excited? Just me? Cool.

Welp, if you don't care about compression garments, you can just stop hur. Tune back in tomorrow. Also, I want you to know that these people aren't paying me (but they should be, shoooooot). Even if they were, I'd give my honest opinion because I'm stubborn like that.

Anyway, so I whined last week about my knee still hurting even though surgery was 7 months ago and I followed all of the instructions this time, so finally I put my big girl panties on (full coverage, minimal sexiness) and looked for alternative options to my knee brace. It's just not cutting it anymore. Why wear it if my knee hurts during and after exercise? I'm no doctor, but those signs point to "useless piece of plastic". To be clear, it used to help. I couldn't run without it. I think I've just outgrown it.

So I looked online for some compression stuff since I know that helps with circulation and muscle stability and ordered a couple from a brand I had heard of from a rando last year while I was buying my punching bag from Academy. This guy legiterally chased me around the store to tell me about these compression sleeves. No lie. I mean, it's not like I could have outrun him anyway, I still had the giant straight leg brace from right after surgery on. And I had my 3 year old with me. He had me cornered. I was bent on following the doctor's orders this time around though, so I just filed his monologue under "stuff I'll probably forget later" and bought my punching bag. Fast forward a few months and that little tidbit was restored from long term memory (have you seen Inside Out? It's cute) and I ordered a couple.

You read through all that to learn that I really like my Tommie Copper knee compression sleeves! This is basically what the guy in Academy did to me, only I'm doing it to several people at once (twss) because I'm efficient. I prefer the "performance" to the "recovery" style, because I feel like it's tighter and keeps everything more stable. Plus it's pretty.

The picture I 'grammed yesterday.
Pardon my moppy emo hair, I don't even know what was happening there.

I still ice my knee after I stress it out, so pretty much each day that I run. Here's hoping this is the next step in full-on recovery! I probably should get all the colors for good measure. Probably.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Green is for chumps

I had a BIG mail day yesterday, y'all. No bills. No junk.That's a win right there, but it gets even better. Drumroll please.

I got my Starbucks Gold Card in the mail.

Movin' up in the world.

When I've got my shit together, my drink is a double tall skinny vanilla latte. 100 calories and extra caffeine gives me enough energy to play Avengers and chase bad guys after work with my kid. When I'm feelin' footloose and fancy free, I get a grande iced caramel macchiato because I'm worth it. It's 190 calories, but I ain't stressin'. Of course, it's not Fall without at least one PSL and I like the new Chestnut Praline latte that came out around the holidays last year too, always nonfat no whip. And guuuuuurl the S'mores Frappuccino is the bomb diggity. I don't even want to talk about the calories in that one. Just treat yoself.

So yeah. Gold Member.

But it doesn't stop there. I received TWO pieces of mail and the other one was the Save the Date I designed for my friend's wedding. I didn't expect her to send me one since I already have the info, but it was pretty rad to receive it.

TWENTY-FIFTEEN
I changed the date and location, creepers.

I asked all of your friends and they said you should pay me to do custom invites for you too. Email me at meg(at)nerkyblog(dot)com. (Shameless plug.)