Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Confessions part 1
Confessions of a $30,000 Millionaire
When making a list of wants and needs the needs column is about 2 pages long, but the wants column only has money listed in it. When it comes to financial savvy I am definitely a three; maybe even a two at this point. Living outside my means is a lifestyle I perfected throughout the last 11 years of my adult life. I bought an Xterra this January when I had a perfectly good Altima with only one year left to pay. Instead, I wanted some new (to me) and shiny so I am now stuck with 5 more years of payments. There was nothing really wrong with the Altima. Sure it had over 100,000 miles on it, but it was running well and I had an extended warrantee on it. I was just bored with it and wanted something different. In retrospect I think that is why I am in the financial situation I am. Really, I could be worse but it is bad to say the least. I have contemplated getting a second job but the only thing I can think of is becoming a writer. I like to write, I think I’m good at it (sometimes) but I have no concept of timelines. My idolize Jen Lancaster because she writes like I think and I talk. Ask my friends, they were like, “OMG is that really you using a pen name” (seriously they said O-M-G). But I can’t write a book in her style because that would be ripping her off and I can’t do that to my idol. So what do I write? I’m writing this blog because I like to share my outlook on the world with others. But seriously, what can a girl (who owns 24 pairs of flippy floppies) do to make some money. Perhaps prostitution…nah one must (somewhat) enjoy sex, not be allergic to latex (those non-latex one are expensive little shits), and not be paranoid that she is going to get caught (my heart pounds when I make a rolling stop people). I could go back to working retail again but that means I need to be super nice to people and as I get older its getting ten times harder to do that. There is a Kohl’s right across from my apartment. I could walk there thus not having to spend my extra paycheck on gas alone. But I’m still fat and sweat when I walk. It’s a 110 in Phoenix and walking one block is detrimental to my wardrobe. So here I sit on a Sunday afternoon sweating my ass off at the pool because I don’t have internet yet contemplating second jobs. I guess the easiest solution is to just stop spending, but screw that, I’m a 5 when it comes to shopping.
When making a list of wants and needs the needs column is about 2 pages long, but the wants column only has money listed in it. When it comes to financial savvy I am definitely a three; maybe even a two at this point. Living outside my means is a lifestyle I perfected throughout the last 11 years of my adult life. I bought an Xterra this January when I had a perfectly good Altima with only one year left to pay. Instead, I wanted some new (to me) and shiny so I am now stuck with 5 more years of payments. There was nothing really wrong with the Altima. Sure it had over 100,000 miles on it, but it was running well and I had an extended warrantee on it. I was just bored with it and wanted something different. In retrospect I think that is why I am in the financial situation I am. Really, I could be worse but it is bad to say the least. I have contemplated getting a second job but the only thing I can think of is becoming a writer. I like to write, I think I’m good at it (sometimes) but I have no concept of timelines. My idolize Jen Lancaster because she writes like I think and I talk. Ask my friends, they were like, “OMG is that really you using a pen name” (seriously they said O-M-G). But I can’t write a book in her style because that would be ripping her off and I can’t do that to my idol. So what do I write? I’m writing this blog because I like to share my outlook on the world with others. But seriously, what can a girl (who owns 24 pairs of flippy floppies) do to make some money. Perhaps prostitution…nah one must (somewhat) enjoy sex, not be allergic to latex (those non-latex one are expensive little shits), and not be paranoid that she is going to get caught (my heart pounds when I make a rolling stop people). I could go back to working retail again but that means I need to be super nice to people and as I get older its getting ten times harder to do that. There is a Kohl’s right across from my apartment. I could walk there thus not having to spend my extra paycheck on gas alone. But I’m still fat and sweat when I walk. It’s a 110 in Phoenix and walking one block is detrimental to my wardrobe. So here I sit on a Sunday afternoon sweating my ass off at the pool because I don’t have internet yet contemplating second jobs. I guess the easiest solution is to just stop spending, but screw that, I’m a 5 when it comes to shopping.
an oldie but so good
My Top Ten Gym Blunders
10. Farting while doing sit ups
9. Breaking the elastic tubing which then left a fan-fucking-tastic mark all the way up my legs
8. Ripping my shorts while trying to walk between two weight machines. Apparently my ass is much larger then it appears in my head when sizing up spaces to walk through
7. The sound of my pooch fat slapping around as I’m doing jumping jacks
6. Tripping over the corner of the treadmill because my trainer thinks 6am is a good time to work out
5. Belching, then puking up my entire protein shake while in the down dog position in yoga class
4. Turning the wrong direction in cardio kick box class and landing a round house square in the face of the skinny blond chick next to me (it felt damn good though she annoyed me)
3. Saying excuse me sir to a woman that was so bulked up I swear she had testicles. (note to self always look for a package in determining gender at the gym. Boobs are not reliable)
2. Breaking yet another elastic tube this time slapping my trainer in the face and breaking his nose.
1. Attempting a box jump (2 Reebok boxes on top of each other) while be spotted by my trainer. I jumped up, I thought I landed, and then the top box slid one way, the bottom boxed slid the other way, and I came tumbling down. Needless to say my session for that day and that week was over.
10. Farting while doing sit ups
9. Breaking the elastic tubing which then left a fan-fucking-tastic mark all the way up my legs
8. Ripping my shorts while trying to walk between two weight machines. Apparently my ass is much larger then it appears in my head when sizing up spaces to walk through
7. The sound of my pooch fat slapping around as I’m doing jumping jacks
6. Tripping over the corner of the treadmill because my trainer thinks 6am is a good time to work out
5. Belching, then puking up my entire protein shake while in the down dog position in yoga class
4. Turning the wrong direction in cardio kick box class and landing a round house square in the face of the skinny blond chick next to me (it felt damn good though she annoyed me)
3. Saying excuse me sir to a woman that was so bulked up I swear she had testicles. (note to self always look for a package in determining gender at the gym. Boobs are not reliable)
2. Breaking yet another elastic tube this time slapping my trainer in the face and breaking his nose.
1. Attempting a box jump (2 Reebok boxes on top of each other) while be spotted by my trainer. I jumped up, I thought I landed, and then the top box slid one way, the bottom boxed slid the other way, and I came tumbling down. Needless to say my session for that day and that week was over.
Monday, June 1, 2009
A new hole in my nose
I know it has been awhile since I posted so here goes…My latest adventure has been getting my nose pierced. Back in January I decided that I would set this a “reward” for losing my first 20-25 pounds. I decided (on only four hours of sleep) that yesterday would be the day. Instead of accomplishing this task first on my long list of things to do I decided to go to Walmart first. It doesn’t seem like that this would be an issue except for the fact that the whole reason I was going to Walmart was to buy pork shoulder in order to make Chilie Verde. After purchasing items high on the spoil gauge I then opted to get my nose pierce. It took me 20 minutes of driving to settle on Club Tattoo as the place to go. I walk into the nicest tattoo shop EVER! It looked like a boutique. Headrick, yes his name was Headrick, took me back and got me set up. One thing people who have their nosed pierced fail to mention is that they make you smile 800 times so they can place the piercing in an aesthetically pleasing location. So I’m sitting there smiling like a dumbass while a guy named Headrick draws pencil marks on my nose. He had an apprentice with him so he was explaining the whole process. Then both of them looked up my nose. Did I mention that the table I was sitting on looked very similar to the one at by OB-GYN with out the stirrups (perhaps they were hiding in the closet). So I they leaned be back, told me to start going to my “place” to prepare for the upcoming unpleasant. Really? I have 11 tattoos one of which took four hours. Any who, I start my Zen breathing that I learned in Yoga and Headrick asked me to take a deep breath and then take long exhale. Upon exhaling there was a pinch in my nose and it was over. The actual piercing doesn’t hurt. What’s annoying is the piercing needle sticking out of my nose while they get the jewelry situated. So I’m laying there with what feels like a huge spike sticking out of my nostril. Eventually the jewelry is in place and all is well. Headrick tells me to take my time sitting up so I don’t pass out. He also mentions that some people have watery eyes afterwards and provided a tissue (so chivalrous). As I sat up he said I was a model client. No watery eyes and no flinching. I am officially a 5 at getting body piercings. After paying for my new accessory I triumphantly walk out the front door. I am no more than 18 inches out the door when I trip on the curb in front of my truck. Sensing horrific embarrassment I turn the free fall into a slight jog. Unfortunately Kimberlee has already seen this and is bent over laughing. So to recap…I am a five at getting pierced and a 3 when it comes to walking. Such is my life
On a side note, Kimberlee is a three at taking pictures because as soon as we got in the truck she wanted to take a picture of me and promptly ran her head into the review mirror.
On a side note, Kimberlee is a three at taking pictures because as soon as we got in the truck she wanted to take a picture of me and promptly ran her head into the review mirror.
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