Model Example?

This morning I read an article posted by a woman who clearly has a very strong and negative opinion about getting the Victoria’s Secret swimsuit catalog*. The post was filled with images from the catalog and she tossed out numerous jabs at both the clothes and the women wearing them. After a couple paragraphs I started wondering the following:

Why is it okay for average Janes like us to say that models are too skinny, too tan, too sexy looking in their photographs but the moment someone comments on our weight, our skin tone, our facial expressions we get all up in their face like they just called the Pope an Atheist?

I can say with 100% certainly this statement is true – models are people with feelings and just as much ability to have them hurt by words tossed in their direction because the people who say them seem to think their life and career choices are somehow superior.

Let me say right now that I’m not jealous of supermodels, Victoria’s Secret models, catalogue models or models in general. In fact, I might even respect them more because I don’t have that talent. I take horrible pictures most of the time and I accept that. What I lack in visual appeal I make up for with my glorious, witty personality.

Or something like that.

Anyway, I’m not a model and I don’t know any models but I feel it’s my duty as a woman to put this out there as a rebuttal to the common misconceptions many people have about models: 

• Just because a woman is skinny doesn’t mean she doesn’t eat.
• Just because a photo appears in a magazine doesn’t mean it started out looking exactly how the finished product appears.
• Just because a woman is beautiful, sexy, can wear tiny little clothes and sell those clothes because of her look, it doesn’t mean she should be open to public ridicule for doing her job.

Sure there might be some models who have eating disorders or other issues but it isn’t just models who face these problems. Lawyers, school principals, stay at home moms could have the same body/food issues but no one seems to harass those people about their weaknesses in public.

I really started wondering why the public seems to think it’s alright to scorn someone else for having something they don’t have – money, love, a rockin’ body, sex appeal. Is it jealousy?

For me, the real issue is that I’m disappointed in myself for not getting off my lazy ass and working out, for not eating healthy enough to still have the tiny frame I used to have. My feelings and my body image have nothing to do with the woman who has somehow managed to find the time to do all that stuff.

It’s not her fault I’m overweight. It’s not her fault I have cellulite and it’s not her fault I can’t rock the swimsuit that she can (yet). It’s my fault.

Yup, I said it and I stand by my choice.

Bear in mind, I don’t harbor delusions of body where I think that if I work out all the time and stop eating I’ll suddenly grow 6+ inches in height and lose every curve or varicose vein on my body. Come on now, I’m not young and stupid (anymore). But if I stopped being lazy and started taking better care of myself I actually could rock this bathing suit:

Yes she’s beautiful, yes she sells sex through her eyes and body, and yes the scene around her is picturesque.

Now, here’s some other things to think about when you look at that picture:

► Most swimsuit photo shoots happen in winter. Yup. This woman is probably freezing her tight, tan ass off but do you see that in her face? No. Models have to rise above being totally uncomfortable in order to do their fucking job. And that ain’t easy.

► What if she’s got the flu but scheduled for a photo shoot they’re paying for her to be a part of? You think she gets a sick day? Uh, no not so much. At least, not if she wants to pay her mortgage.

► What if the only time they could book for a shoot is on her kid’s 5^th birthday? You think they’ll reschedule because she ordered up a bouncy castle? Try again.

► The chances that this woman just got 2 hours of sleep on a plane, spent 8 hours “frolicking” in ice cold water then got right back on a plane to travel 10 hours for another shoot where she has to be professional and upbeat (aka not cranky and tired) is pretty high. How much of a toll might that kind of schedule take on someone’s body?

► Speaking of body, models contort into positions no human should be able to pull off so you can see as much of the product as possible. Seriously, I dare you to get in front of a full-length mirror and try to get your body into the position in this photo. Then stay there for 4-8 hours with little time for a break.

► Oh, and don’t forget your face because getting in that position for that long is painful and you can’t let that show on your face or your photos will suck and you won’t get paid to do your job.

► Then, while you’re doing all that other stuff, don’t forget your light source must hit the right places on your face or again you’re going to look kind of weird.

► And weirdness might sell some stuff – see tortoise framed glasses, hipster music, books – but it doesn’t sell swimsuits. Sexy sells swimsuits.

So here’s my big overarching question:

As women, shouldn’t we be embracing of WHATEVER other women want to do for a living (you know, as long as it’s legal)? Are we seriously persecuting each other for being too sexy now? How fucked up of a female double-standard is that?

If I met whoever that gal is in the picture up there I’d give her a high five and thank her for taking care of herself. I’d thank her for getting her ass off her sofa, going out and using the thing she has to her best advantage to make a career for herself.

Remember how women used to not be able to do that? This woman should get a medal for doing what she loves AND getting paid for it.

And I’d thank her for pushing me to go that extra half mile on my stationary bike. Because, while I have ZERO delusions that I’d ever have the same body type or shape she has, I use the image as inspiration to better myself.

It’s hard enough for women out there so I see no reason for other women to shit all over each other just because we make choices to make the most of the gifts, skills and talents we have. Regardless of what those gifts, skills or talents happen to be.

Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to get back on my stationary bike to do my 5 miles this morning because I’m going to get back in shape for me so I can buy that bathing suit and love how I look in it.

Non-model flaws and all.

Image courtesy Victoria’s Secret

*Sorry I can’t seem to locate the link to this story. If you read it please feel free to share the link in the comments.

A new window opens when you click to comment. Also, I get lots of spam comments so if the post is older than 3 days, your comment will be moderated.

Steve Miller Really Knew What He Was Talking About

Time really does seem to be “ticking, ticking, ticking, into the future” at a pretty rapid clip these days. The past few weeks have been super busy learning all this new information on how to start and successfully run my freelance writing career, actually writing and applying to get some freelance writer gigs, chewing on my sequel in the subconscious (yes I’m still going to be writing fiction, no worries there!), and watching lots of exciting, long-winded playoff hockey.

I’ve barely had a minute to put together any kind of comprehendible thought that doesn’t involve SEO, keyword research, content marketing, some other industry specific term, or how many times in a day I can tweet with #BostonBruins.

So some of the stuff I’ve jotted down (because you know I carry a notebook and pen around with me everywhere) or uttered out loud has stuck with me the past couple weeks. In no particular order.

Refinancing your mortgage is kinda like losing your virginity

You wonder if it’s more than you can handle and you know it’ll hurt while it’s happening but it’s such an exciting prospect that you just can’t force yourself to stop moving forward. Especially because you know you’ll come out a different person on the other side. The pressure is off. Things can get back to normal. Maybe. I just hope at the end of it all I’m not left confused and bewildered, wondering if I made the right decision. And the bastard had better call me the next day. And if they can’t get it together to commit forever at least leave my big huge check on the nightstand and get the hell out.

There are at least 83 levels of awesome in “How I Met Your Mother”

Matt and I are TV bingers. When there’s a series that we have interest in watching but didn’t start from the start we add it to our Netflix instant queue and after the series is over we go back to watch all the episodes in one lump sum. Without commercials. “How I Met Your Mother” has been sitting in our queue for about four years and now that they’re coming back in the fall with the last season in the series it seemed like a good time to start watching from the start. I’d seen plenty of disjointed episodes over the years in syndication but something about knowing the full story is legen…wait for it…dary. “The Big Bang Theory” is up next.

Writing with keywords is a pain in the ass on a personal blog

No matter how much I want people to find and read this blog I just can’t make it keyword stuffy. It isn’t what this blog was originally set out to do and I don’t want it to become a chore or I’ll probably stop writing it. I write here to rant and rave and writing for content marketing doesn’t really fit in with that. At least not now. If I figure out how to do it maybe it’ll be so subtle no one will even notice. Until then I always have my website or Green Leaf Reviewer to jam pack with perfectly written keyword articles.

Hockey games should never be five hours long

Don’t get me wrong, I love that the Bruins are in the Stanley Cup Finals and I love that they’re playing the Chicago Blackhawks because having an Original Six matchup for the first time since 1979 is awesome. But there’s a reason I don’t watch much baseball. After the first four hours all I want to do is take a big old nap. So when the Bruins had to play a double overtime game to beat the Penguins and move on to the Stanley Cup Finals I figured that would be the longest game I’d ever seen. I figured wrong. After last night’s game 1 against the Hawks went into triple overtime and the game was within a minute or two of being the longest game ever in NHL history, I slept like a wee baby. All that screaming and excitement can really wear a person out. Please go back to your regularly scheduled two and a half hour running time. My east coast peeps shouldn’t have to be up until 1:00 AM watching these games. Unless the Bruins win of course. Then I don’t care if it takes seven hours. Carry on.

I love the smell of sweat in the morning

I started getting more serious about working out again in the past month or so and it’s all thanks to the stationary bike. That thing was the best $130 investment I’ve ever made. I ride at least five miles every morning, sometimes another five in the afternoon, and I’m already down about four pounds. It isn’t an extreme loss but if I can keep up the pace and intensity I should be up to twenty miles a day in the next few weeks and burning fat regularly. Exercise isn’t on my immediate radar so doing something quick like this really helps me stay motivated to keep doing it. The dancing thing happened a few times but I admit it pretty much fell by the wayside. Oh well.

Still wonky, still have sausage fingers

I found a naturopathic doc who seems pretty cool even though she’s very expensive and not really covered under my insurance. Of course she’s not. She gave me some plant based something-or-another to “completely stop” the wonkiness. It didn’t work. She goaled me to lose ten pounds in the next three months. I’m trying to do more than that. Not sure if I’ll go back or not. None of them seem to have a clue whether trained in east or west. Sometimes I think I’m better left to eating a more natural diet and exercising so I can just work this out on my own.

I’m wearing my hair up until it stops looking like Darth Vader’s helmet

You get what you pay for when you go to the cheapest possible place to get a trim. But really, she went a little too short and blunt this time. I asked her to do a small stack in the back so it would fall more naturally toward my neck instead of fluffing out like it does when it’s all one length. She said no and cut the way she wanted to. In turn I tipped her what I wanted to. Good thing it’s long enough for a ponytail and that I’m okay with my hair being up every day.

I need a new saying because “oh my god it’s a hundred out!” is actually low balling it

Mother fucker it’s blazing hot here. I mean I knew what I was getting into by moving to the desert but its only mid-June and we’ve already had twenty-four days at or above 100 this year according to the National Weather Service. With at least two more months of this on tap I’m just happy to have a pool and central air.

“No pleasure, no rapture, no exquisite sin greater... than central air.”

• • • • • • • • • • •
Published in multiple print and online sources, Author, Blogger and Freelance Writer Jenn Flynn-Shon has been writing for publication since 2001. Follow her antics on twitter @jennshon

Losing Weight and Gaining Good Phat

If you’ve been reading my blog for any length of time you know about my struggle to find a workout program that I can stick to and is actually effective for losing weight. I blogged a while ago about my intention to spend my lunch hour dancing around my office all alone every day.

And you want to hear something awesome? I’m not only enjoying using dancing as a cardio workout, because the options for songs to dance to are endless, but after only thirteen days of doing my new overall workout routine I’m down three pounds!

Woo hoo!

This is a huge accomplishment as far as I’m concerned for a few reasons:

• I’m almost 40 years old
• I’m female
• I’m a desk jockey from 7:00 AM – 4:00 PM all week long
• I’m pretty freaking lazy the rest of the time

Each of those above reasons are facts so that means it’s harder to lose weight. But screw it if anyone thinks little things like that could stop me from getting my body back. It’s so on.

The thing is, I’m completely comfortable with my shape. The shape that exists underneath all these rolls that is. I’m curvy, I’ve got a healthy sized badonkadonk for a petite little Irish girl, and my hips never caught up to the fact that I’m not planning to have kids. Stupid nature doing whatever it wants.

Anyway, by this age I’ve learned to accept these certain facts about myself and I generally like the curves.

But they don’t have to be jiggly on the outside of the underlying shape. So when I saw that my fitness and nutrition plan was working it really made me want to stand up and dance!

Pun intended.

The thing I didn’t anticipate happening with all of this exercise was the side benefit of getting my body right. I’m so much clearer in my head. I’m more focused on my work, on whatever task it is I’m trying to complete actually, and it’s starting to produce results in my efforts of entrepreneurship.

All because I’m swimming three times a week, riding my stationary bike 5 miles a day three days a week & spending 30-45 minutes club-style dancing five days a week?

Hell if all it takes to keep me focused and driven is a collective hour a day of moving my body around then consider me a fitness nut.

I’m in. I’m all in matter of fact. This body will be in a bikini again by next summer and will be so toned that I want people saying shit like ‘Wait, you’re 41 years old? Bitch, I hate you.’

Yup, kinda like the sound of that.

• • • • • • • • • • •
Published in multiple print and online sources, Author, Blogger and Freelance Writer Jenn Flynn-Shon has been writing for publication since 2001. Follow her antics on twitter @jennshon

Kidding Myself?



The first time I asked it said Ask Later. This was my second response.
Uh-huh.



Who was I trying to fool when I set that goal of losing ten pounds before the wedding? I’ll be lucky if I lose two at this rate. Not to say I haven’t been eating healthy or working out. Quite to the contrary I’m trying to do some form of exercise every day and making much smarter choices for nutrition most of the time.

The operative turn of phrase here is ‘most of the time’.

For some reason I’m not taking into account the fact that I go out with friends and enjoy happy hour once a week, or at least twice a month. In which time I’ll happily imbibe a few glasses of wine and whatever bad for me food is sitting on the table. I’ve also somehow failed to factor in that I enjoy going to sporting events and the beer that goes along with them.

I’ve put on about twenty pounds. How come it’s so much easier to put them on than to take them off? Especially when I’m actually trying to take them off, not just sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine lamenting the fact that I’ve gone up two dress sizes in the past handful of years?

Starving myself is not an option, I enjoy food way too much for that. Plus I enjoy not passing out and since all this wonkiness started last fall I’m finding it’s crucial to keep my blood sugar at an optimum level. Any type of crash effects my weird head shit.

Because I need the added challenge apparently. So maybe it’s time to cut out or at the very least cut back on drinking. Because those empty calories found my midsection and are reluctant to let go.

I’m not a stress eater and I don’t tend to binge on unhealthy snacks. In fact during the day I’m much more likely to eat small meals at intervals of every couple hours. Oatmeal (steel cut, no extras) with a little agave & cinnamon to start the day. Mid-morning I’ll have a granola bar and water. Lunch is usually something small like a can of tuna with light mayo or a can of soup with a few pita chips and hummus. Mid-day snack is usually an apple with some cheese melted on top. Dinner is sometimes a larger meal but we’ve been doing a lot of broiled fish, salads, veggies and either vegetable starches like sweet potato fries or healthier brown rice. And I usually don’t eat desert of any kind or another snack late night after 6:00 dinner.

Add in my hour workout every day and I’m at a complete loss as to why I can’t seem to shed these useless and much too heavy pounds. Am I just kidding myself that I’ll ever be a shape other than oval again? Has the cottage cheese effect come to stay?

I’m only forty (and not even there yet damn it!) so it can’t be that much more difficult to lose weight than it was in my thirties. Can it be?

It isn’t practical for my schedule to think about working out longer than an hour a day and I don’t have the money in the budget to actually join a gym so I’m doing it all at home, usually during my lunch hour.

But with only a couple weeks until this wedding the outlook doesn’t look too good. I guess I better start considering investing in a pair of Spanx and just keep pushing play so I can maybe lose something before summer and pool season are upon us.

Posted for April 2013 A to Z Blog Challenge K is for Kidding

Magic 8 Ball CGI by Steven C. Santy

Don’t Forget the Bow in Your Hair

I came across an article in my local paper a couple days ago (meant to clip & scan it but forgot and now it’s in my outside recycle bin so, sorry, but I'm not fishing it out) that focused on how women weigh more these days because they don't do as much housework as compared to how much they did back in the late Sixties.

My gut reaction was that I was appalled someone would even begin to do this kind of a study. I mean it isn’t like men used to do the housework back then but they too were also much trimmer simply because the fast food, high fat crap diets and endless hours of sitting on one’s ass hasn’t yet filtered into the mainstream way of life and work. How dare this man put that kind of bullshit off on women!

But then I got to thinking, my house could really use a good solid cleaning. And I’m kind of lacking in cardio points this week. Maybe I should pull out the vacuum and go all Magda on my living room. Think Ethan Hawke in Gattaca only without the six pack abs. Well not yet, I haven’t cleaned this week.

And as a side note, whatever happened to Ethan Hawke? And how did I not recognize his amazing hotness until this very moment? I really need to watch Reality Bites in the next week or so. Damn.

But I digress.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to run a vacuum over my floors and expect to lose weight or tone my muscles or anything but when I think about the way I clean my house I can’t help but wonder just how many calories I actually do burn. Obviously cleaning isn’t a daily activity so it isn’t part of a solid workout plan but that raised another question for me – can any movement be considered part of a solid workout plan? And if I do enough moving in a day – cleaning, dancing, fifty random jumping jacks, power walking as I shop at the mall – does it count toward my calorie burn?

Last weekend Matt, my sister and I all headed to my mom’s place to celebrate her birthday and on Saturday night we had a couple drinks and a lot of laughs to some random tunes. Gloria Estefan, the Xanadu soundtrack, “Jesse’s Girl”, just to name a few. I haven’t been dancing in what feels like forever so, with the music playing, I simply got out of the chair on the sun porch and started doing some serious cardio dancing. For about a solid hour. And it felt great!

 

Let me tell you, I sure was sore the next day in my sides, thighs, hips & butt so I know I worked something. But then I got back home and it was back to my standard one hour a day workout. Do daily tasks. Sit on ass writing (read: play Angry Birds for hours). Eat dinner. Workout. Pretend I’m actually changing my lifestyle.

Realize I’ve been lying to myself.

If I want to get in shape, really get in shape, I need to get off my ass more. A lot more. Now I don’t plan to go and fool myself into thinking I have to join a gym and workout six hours a day on nautilus equipment to get where I want to be, but I sure can’t see myself achieving my goal of losing ten pounds before my friend’s wedding in April while I veg out on the sofa all night after my one hour workout.

It's time to get up and get moving.

Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go put my pretty pink bow in my hair and move said sofa because there are a shitload of dust bunnies underneath it and it’s apparently my job as a woman to make sure they’re cleaned up.

And I’m going to do it while I dance to some Eighties pop music.

Broken Thought Thursday

Been a while since I’ve put one of these little Broken Thought Process gems together. Hold onto something and prepare for the barrage of random topics about to hit you like a heat wave in Phoenix in August. Wait…never mind.

Hockey

Even the very mention of this tiny six letter word makes me sad right now because a ten letter word has stomped on it and kicked it to the side with blatant disregard for the little guy who suffers due to the inactivity. That ten letter word is management. Sort of.

Failing to agree that the players are right…cough, I mean, um…move at all on the talks over player's split means that all games up to the end of September are now cancelled. That’s pretty much all of preseason.

And with players like Seguin and Crosby hauling-ass over to Europe somewhere, it’s not all that encouraging that we’ll see the guys back on US soil, er, ice, anytime soon.

At least Dish got their heads out of their butts and didn’t charge us for the Center Ice package (like they said they were going to do regardless) so that’s great but Dish Network isn’t the one who suffers. The people who suffer are the ones no one thinks about.

A dude sells you a pretzel. That person has a job that helps pay their bills and they’re probably making minimum wage. Now maybe they work every event the arena sponsors so they have full time work. Knockout 3 games a week and Peter Pretzel Guy just went to part time. And he probably lost his benefits in the process.

It isn’t just Peter – Jack the Janitor, Zelda the Zamboni driver, the Ice Girls, mascot, security guards, ticket takers – EVERYone suffers from a loss of revenue. And for what? A measly 10-ish percent of the revenue split? Please.

For teams like the Coyotes a lockout could be the difference between sticking around or leaving the desert. They just started to build fan momentum, don’t kill that now. Not to mention I don't have the benefit of other levels of hockey anywhere nearby other than the ASU Sundevils (season opener is tonight at Oceanside Ice Arena in Tempe, game starts at 8:30 and is against Texas A&M).

And while college hockey is nice (because it is hockey after all) I didn't go to ASU so I can't really get behind supporting them. Not to mention my sister would probably kick my ass for not rooting for the UofA Wildcats (who open their season tomorrow night against NAU up in Flagstaff).

There's no minor league team in Phoenix, the Sundogs moved to Prescott. So what's a fan to do but hope these NHL big-wigs can get it together sooner rather than later?

Health

Despite the fact that I want to be lazy I’m doing pretty good about sticking to a 3-4 day a week workout routine. I do what I feel like doing with no pressure. Some weeks I might do nothing but yoga, others straight up cardio and sometimes it’s a mix of the two. But I’m feeling better and even though it’s only been about a month I’ve lost around 4 pounds. Baby steps but I’ll take it.

Work

I think most of you know that I abandoned my second manuscript about the divorced 40 something who experienced more dating disasters than any one person should ever have to go through. When I shelved it I did so because I had an itch to write something with more punch, something adventurous.

So I did. I just finished the first draft of my very first Romantic Adventure. Think Romancing the Stone as an example of what I mean. But my story is nothing like that one; they’re just in the same basic genre.

The first draft was completed at the beginning of September, edits just wrapped last week. And now I’m supposed to be doing re-writes but I can’t seem to get myself to sit and work on it. But it has nothing to do with a lack of motivation or disinterest in the story. My issue is that I think I need to stop working from home.

I spend countless hours by myself clicking away on a keyboard or scribbling furiously with my red pen but this time around I think I need to inject the pace of the world into the book.

My main character is a Writer, a novelist, and a pretty successful one at that. She’s not the type to sit all day long inside writing without any other human contact. I need to find a place I like and start going there a few times a week to work on completing this novella. Because in the late fall I’m going to have to start working on the next MS – the first full-length book in the series about this character.

Oh and I’ve changed the title of the novella. Work In Progress sounded too youthful and not adventurous enough a title. Now I do admit it’s still “me” in that there won’t be too much blood or guts and you know it’s going to have a mostly upbeat ending too. But the title wasn’t working for me at all.

I hope to reveal the actual title within the next few weeks along with the cover art.

My goal was to get this out in October as an eBook with print copies available for purchase online but it looks like it might be sometime in November. Oh well, I don’t have an Agent yet so it is what it is. That’s the beauty of being a self-pub, you get to renig on deadlines that weren’t there in the first place. I guess you could say it’s the plus/minus of my work.

Now why did I have to go and say plus/minus?

I miss you already hockey…

A Time to Every Purpose

Does it always have to be so perfect and lengthy? My blog that is. More specifically each post. The realistic answer is probably not. I’d likely get a whole heck of a lot more comments if I didn’t ramble on for 1500 solid words every time.

But that just wouldn’t be me now would it? Comment whore or not I will suffer with the lack of them to put my verbal vomit out there.

Who knew one could use the words ‘whore’ and ‘vomit’ in the same sentence? Oh wait, Vegas…

So there are a whole lot of happenings going down, stuff I’ve joined and things going on so it makes me wonder if I really can get back to posting more regularly (?). First of all there is the Book Club which is so rad. I always wanted to join a book club and now I did so yea! We read & reviewed Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert last month and September is all about The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bend. I’m looking forward to that one on mere title alone.

Because, really, who doesn’t love lemon cake?

Then again maybe I have eaten too much of it lately because exercise is about to take up a whole big chunk of the page in the current chapter of my life. I finally got back on my treadmill (now that temperatures in Boston have calmed back from the upper 90’s and humid) and on the suggestion of a good friend who is doing and sticking to it, we’re picking up P90X in a couple weeks with the next paycheck.

I have to, really, because no matter how much I avoid looking at my stomach, every time I do catch a glance it baffles me how it can possibly have morphed into the shape of an entire pizza plus a five piece chicken selects. Or maybe the selects went to my ass? Huh, no, that’s probably due to all the cheese and fries. (Ooh, cheese fries…)

Fast food. My one true nemesis on this planet.

So because a few of us were feeling a similar need to shed there is the new Fitness Club! Basically we’ll all talk about our good, healthier habits and give each other some virtual high fives for the efforts we’re all making toward being healthier people. No weigh-ins, no weight revelations, no pressure. And I love that.

While I’m spending all that time on the gerbil wheel I might as well get some kind of benefit so I’m reading a lot of Chick-Lit too. I really forgot how much I loved reading stories about dynamic women. Back when I was younger we simply called it ‘Fiction’ but the aforementioned mildly misogynistic catch phrase gained momentum and stuck.  So now, according to the industry, that’s what I write.

Some of the books I’ve read recently have been memoirs. I gobbled up all but one book by Jen Lancaster so far. She is hilarious, open and really, really good at conversational voice. I identified with her style and situations right away. Well, except I never owned & had to sell anything by Prada and I’m not a Republican but otherwise I get everything that flows out of that woman’s fingers. Right down to the constant cursing.

Though, unlike Word who has just presented me with a little red squiggle, at least I do know what Prada is.

Faux has trailed off again and honestly that is fine. After six straight weeks of body breaking labor work I’m fully content to not have to climb, roll, cut, pounce, sand or tape anything for a while. Plus, NaNoWriMo is coming up and I really have to start thinking up some baseline character stuff.

We went out a week or so ago with a friend of mine and I had one of those nights where my little notebook and pen got whipped out so often with hilarious inspiration that I should have had a mini voice recorder instead.

And FYI? People in locals-only type bars give very odd looks to 37 year old women in sweats and a bucket hat who “take notes” all night. But ask me if I care. I have another novel to start in less than sixty days people! There is no time like the present to create a character.

Oh, and FYI x 2? People in bars are some seriously interesting characters.

With NaNo comes the lack of ability to focus on pretty much anything else so before that whirlwind begins it seemed right to do one craft fair this year. It’s the same one I did a couple years ago in Melrose and I’m looking forward to it, mostly because I plan to whip up a whole bunch of fun home décor from fabric and faux and sell the pants off it.

Two goals achieved -- 1. I make something out of all the reclaimed fabric I have gathering dust in my craft closet and 2. all the fabric in my craft closet finally goes to a good home that isn’t mine.

Which leads me into the next eight week project. Not only creating craft fair merch but really organizing my entire crafty life. (Now all I hear in my head is the Beastie Boys…) I have so many old photographs just dying to be attached to the pages of the umpteen half filled or empty scrapbooks taking up space in yet another cabinet. Something tells me I’ll gain space by putting them together.

So in short (not) I guess its time to reorganize and reclaim my life back. The physical, mental, intellectual and spiritual. Not to mention financial or any other ‘al’ that happens to pop up.

Only 965 words this time, not too bad.

It’s not You, it’s Me. Wait, never mind, yes it is You

“I’ve got eight things in the air and the phone’s ringing off the hook…”
Crack the Mirror ~ Melissa Ferrick

So we went off and traveled the country, saw family and friends, went to sporting events and all that other happy crap I told everyone we were planning to do a fracking month ago when I last updated my blog (!!!!!!) which got me thinking… Clearly at least one of those eight things has got to go.

I began evaluating all the stuff I do, or want to do and realized that up until a year or so ago I was getting along just fine without two daily interferences -- paying my bills and Facebook.

Although they have come to make a home in a corner of my living room, unfortunately a person is only allowed to file bankruptcy once in a six year period so the bills are here to stay. It isn’t an ideal situation but I’ll just toss a shoji screen up in that corner to hide their piles of laundry or something and go on with my day as if they don’t live here. We can co-exist just fine as long as we only have to see each other once a month.

Facebook on the other hand…

That evil bastard not only moved into the house, he took over three quarters of the bed, my sofa, ate all the food in the refrigerator and left his dirty laundry in the middle of the floor. I’ve known for a long time that our relationship is slightly dysfunctional but I thought I had enough effort to give for the both of us.

I was wrong.

The time that Facebook sucks out of my life is time I can never get back again and really I could find such better use of that time. For example, I could visit my old friend Random Lunacy who I have seriously neglected over the past few months in order to spend time with the new boyfriend. I’m so very sorry RL, why I ever gave up on you I have no idea, I guess I felt as if there might be something better out on the horizon but it turns out I was wrong. I hope you can find it in your virtual heart to forgive me.

It also wouldn’t hurt to spread a little joy to a few of my other lovers, like my drum kit (yes a real live one finally purchased), treadmill, or sewing machine. Heck even my paint brushes are feeling slightly left out in the cold and they’ve seen the light of day in the past couple weeks.

What I’m really trying to say, Facebook, is that I have no problem having lunch occasionally, or maybe a morning cup of coffee, but I just can’t hang around and play Scrabble with you at all hours of the night anymore and share links with you for stories that you never even read. I’m taking a break from you and focusing on the things that matter again. I’ll miss you a little bit I’m sure but we’ll find a way to make it work.

Friends?

I Can Not Let BTPTh Pass By

OK, I know. I said something about not being here very often over the next few weeks. So isn’t a gal allowed to change her mind? Geez. Guess I just felt compelled to post something today because my thought process is very broken right now. This post should be a plethora of random, inane wackiness.

So I have been thinking. Why are there no stars right next to Earth? Why do we have to go light years outside our own Solar System to reach them? OK, I know the Sun is technically considered a star but then this makes me think even greater thoughts like I wonder if every single star is a sun and if tiny little Solar Systems spin around each of them. It isn’t like we can get to them to find out so how can we really know? I hope so. I hope other beings exist in other systems and treat their own rock the way we should be treating ours.

I have been smoke free for twelve days. Matt is using the patch. I only smoked 1-2 a day and the patch makes me feel like I’m having a heart attack so I’m going cold. Not sure how I’m doing. I want to be quit because seriously smoking is so last decade but for some reason I’m having a way more difficult time this time around. I really wanted to quit last year. But if I don’t just stay quit this time I’m never going to get around to doing it later so that is that. I need to totally reprogram my brain.

With the advent of quitting Matt & I estimate we will be able to save upwards of $3000 a year. Yeah, no joke. Collectively we smoked a pack a day and at about $8.50 a pack that is over 3k a year. There are many things we are both looking forward to putting that money towards.

First off, we’re joining the Trustees of Reservations and getting a fairly chunky membership at that. At the Sponsor level we’ll be supporting the over 100 locations across Massachusetts that the Trustees support. Free entry into many of the beaches alone makes this well worth the cost, but they also have historic register properties and lots of great hiking trails to explore too.

I am going to admit that I need some structure toward working my literal ass off and will join the gym. The one right down the street offers a whole bunch of cool classes like yoga and Pilates and some aerobic stuff too plus just having access to a treadmill is going to be the golden ticket for me.

We both plan to get our butts out to see a whole lot more live music again. We used to be super duper concert goers, discovering new and local acts all over the Boston music scene but let that slide in recent years so it is going to be nice getting back into music again.

Matt is probably going to upgrade his bike to one that is a bit sturdier for mountain biking and he’s going to buy a season pass to a local ski area.

While he’s off doing that, if I’m not at the gym, I plan to be taking drum lessons or getting my first tattoo. Finally.

The tat is tripping me up a little bit. I do not want something that anyone else has so it can’t come from the wall, and it has to be something that really means something to me; otherwise why would I permanently mark my body with it? Anyone know any phenomenal artists who will let me just tell them the stuff I love and then they will whip up something amazing that is no more than a few inches square? Then anyone have other suggestions of a tattoo artist who can interpret it and adorn my hip with it?

One of the awesome products that was sent to me to review is a “cook” book called Raw Energy 124 Raw Food Recipes…. I have been hearing more and more about this food movement lately and although I have long admitted to being an omnivore some of the stuff in this book sounds way too good not to try. When grocery shopping tomorrow I have to pick up a whole bunch of stuff to make some of these and a few of Ginger’s vegan yummies.

My ex sent a friend request on Facebook. WTF? We’re not talking the “oh its so good to hear from this person because we haven’t spoken since we broke up when both of us went to college and there were no hard feelings” ex. I’m at a loss what to do.

Well off to dinner and ice cream with a good friend.

Why not go ahead and check the fun stylings of KC, Bree, Bridgete, Ginger and Kate for more randomly sprouted thoughts.

Photo courtesy of South Park Studios clips

I Feel Broken, Never Mind My Thoughts

It seems unreal to me that it’s been over a week since my last blog because I was doing so good with that whole posting everyday thing and now I feel like my brain turned to mush.

To say I am a little overwhelmed right now with all the stuff going on would definitely be an understatement. It has been quite a week indeed.

Painting is going fantastic out in Fitchburg. To give a little more of an idea of the scope, the house is roughly 3000 square feet total (both apartments, all 3 floors) plus there are closets, hallways and front porches to apply that nice latex coating to as well. Oh yeah, not to mention that there is window, door, baseboard & crown in every room and all the doors and cabinets are getting painted too.

In fact my dad told me to go ahead and paint Matt if he stands still for too long. You get the idea.

So far ceilings are done in all but 1 space where I have to apply Kilz stain block primer because there is a huge watermark that the Benny Fresh Start is not hiding. Walls are primed everywhere and about ¾ of the walls have finish paint on them. Plus I have primer on all the trim where required (about ½ of it realistically).

Matt has helped me on 2 separate weekends for a total of about 25 hours but otherwise this baby is all me. Nightmare visions of my recoculous 14 hour per day job in Maryland in March of 2008 have come back to smack me in the carpel tunnel.

Thankfully I have 4 days off in a row because my wrist feels like someone yanked on my tendon as if it was an elastic band. And then they let it go. Ouchie.

Of course all this means I have not been keeping up with the awesomeness of the Blogosphere and I truly apologize. Not to say I haven’t read some of everyone’s postings and made comments here and there but the world of written words has not gotten my standard level of attention and I really miss it. I will catch up with all of you eventually.

So on other things…

I started reading a book my Wicked Stepmother lent me a while back. It is called A Marriage Made in Heaven ~or~ Too Tired for an Affair by Erma Bombeck. I might be a little late to the party on this one but I have to say I have never outright laughed out loud so heartily while reading a book ever before. She is so dry and witty and so far I can identify with virtually all of the story she is telling even though she is talking about it happening to her in the 40’s and 50’s. I will finish this book over this coming weekend, no doubt. I have been laughing so hard Matt has said he wants to read it, even though he knows it’s a chic book. But truthfully he should, its freaking great.

Last night we hit the mall so he could get some sneakers since the sole of his current pair is literally falling off. I figured it was a good time to go get my free panty at Victoria’s Secret with the coupon I got in the mail (score) and also to look at bathing suits for our upcoming Vineyard vacation since mine is getting to that place where I’m slightly worried about the same thing happening to the side seam that did to Matt’s shoe. And no one wants to see that.

We end up in JC Penney because I had a small return to make and I grab a whole bunch of clearance items in my size figuring I’ll also try on one size up because I know I’m a teeny little bit bigger than last year.

Yeah. A little bit bigger my literal ass. I went up 3 sizes since last summer. Last summer was the first time since 8th grade that I was in a different size bathing suit. That means in 2 years I went up 4 sizes. Not healthy.

I believe the words ‘holy shit’ came flying out of my mouth with every new piece that so un-gently squeezed me in. Some like to call them curves, I call it back fat and that my friends should never, ever exist on me.

As I sat looking at myself in the mirror I actually started crying that I could have been so evil to my own body to not take care of it for this past year (or 2). Admittedly painting jobs seriously slowed since last year and I started writing a whole lot more (read: sitting on my butt in front of the computer) but freaking seriously what is the issue with just getting up and joining a gym or something?

Well there is no issue anymore. When Matt gets home tonight we both decided it is high time to suck it up and join the gym that is literally 10 blocks from our house. Trying to work out at home is just not cutting it for me because all I do is continue to write instead of getting up and doing it so clearly I need to go somewhere to get healthy. So be it. I have no problem paying to get into shape if it will keep me motivated to do it.

Then we are coming home and eating brown rice and steamed vegetables for dinner. I am tired of feeling like if I went to the beach right now I might have to worry about being harpooned or something, like a poor defenseless white whale.

Of course, I have never seen a beluga whale with cellulite. The blubber is under their skin, lucky bastards.

So I know I won’t be the little hottie I used to be by mid September but I had better be able to at least fit into my bathing suit without back fat. Gee, perhaps this is the reason my old suit doesn’t really fit so well anymore.

As a way to make myself feel at least a little bit better about myself I picked up a tube of Heavenly lotion from Vicky’s while we were at the mall. This used to be my signature scent. I worked there when it was introduced and have never worn anything else since; I just stopped wearing girly smelling things for a long time. It is a soft and light kind of powdery scent, smells great on me and always makes me smile when it hits my nose so since I am heading down the path of being awesome inside and out again this felt like a nice place to start. It is going right into my gym bag so I can be happy after the shower. Yup, that’s right, “cute Jenn” is on her way back because getting rid of the flabbiness is so on.

OK, shake it off…pun intended.

Must do laundry, be right back.

Earlier I was telling someone that I used to be a nanny and then writing this blog about being a painter it occurs to me that I am much like that Sandra Bullock character in Forces of Nature - a little crazy, had about a billion different jobs, no real direction. Everything but the having a kid & cheating on my husband part. Interesting.

So I recently got this PUR Flavor Options pitcher sent to me to review for Green Leaf Reviewer and it is like the coolest thing ever. It has a cartridge you install in the lid so when you tip it to pour you click a button on the handle & it squirts this little flavor shot into the water. Tried lemon & raspberry so far & loving the raspberry. I almost crave it now. Maybe it’s actually just flavored liquid crack. I wonder if they can get away with saying it has no calories or added sugar and then successfully market liquid crack? I’m kind of thinking so.

For all you Dave Matthews Band fans…check out http://www.somuchtosave.org/
Then take the pledge to do whatever you can for the environment (scroll down the page & you’ll see the check boxes). After you commit to doing these awesome things they will give you an entire free cd of live music. Two DMB tracks and a few other cool artists like Switchfoot and Yonder Mountain String Band. Can we say hello rockin?

OK on that happy note its time to finish up laundry and hit the road to grocery shop, pick up some packages at FedEx and hit the mall to try to find something that will go with the top I bought last night that will be unoffensive.

Tomorrow I read all of your blogs & chill for the whole day. I can not wait to catch up ♥

And because I'm too lazy to go hunt down links make sure to check the gals over on the blog roll...Ginger, Bridgete, Bree, KC, and sometimes Kate.

I Think I Pulled a Fallopian Tube

Yoga. An ancient meditative practice that dates back about 5,000 or so years could never be wrong. Right? All those dudes sitting cross legged with their hands raised to the heavens and eyes closed had to know that the human body was not so limited as to feel pain simply from completing a couple of seemingly easy stretches to elongate the muscles. Sure. Well that is the real secret of yoga that no one ever talks about; it is like being put on The Virtual Rack -- where the body is yanked apart but without the medieval shackles around the wrists and ankles. So this morning I started working on building a Rack instead of attempting yoga again because I think it would be more effective, hurt less the next day and be far less work.

Wait, let me back up for a second.

Since I can remember I have always been an active gal. From the age of seven I was in gymnastics and as a kid I also went a few times a week to Jazzercise with my Mom. I loved to run around outside and as a tomboy I would climb trees or playground structures for hours. When S and I met in sixth grade we had an immediate bond of gymnastics and we both eventually joined the High School team. After High School, years went by where my only real exercise was walking but with the amount I did I remained in great shape, and then I started painting for a living. Faux finishing is indeed a full body workout (try doing ceiling to floor strie and tell me how your arms, thighs and core feel the next day). Then the housing market crashed so I started writing (AKA, sitting on my ass in front of a monitor all day) and S got pregnant with twins. For the past year both S and I lost all of our tone but we were both determined to fight against anything called “middle aged spread”. Especially since we are only in our mid-thirties. Barely even considered Cougars; if we were single of course.

Before she went in for surgery she signed up to do a swim class for new moms and since it really is not very practical to lift two babies in a pool, she asked if I would like to join her on the weeks her own mom would not be able to make it. I love to swim so it seemed like a great idea. When we got to class and remembered that part about wearing a bathing suit in public, fear sunk in. At least she had an excuse. I on the other hand looked like I should have birthed one of those babies with my sorry excuse for an out of shape butt and little pot belly out on display for all those judgmental moms to see. It was time to turn it around pronto.

Now that S is healed up nice from her surgery we have started a workout routine together over at her place a couple days a week. They have a nice exercise room set up with a recumbent bike, rowing machine, exercise ball and a Bowflex and we have been steadily increasing our activity level on each as the weeks have progressed. So yesterday when S suggested we could throw in some yoga as a nice supplement to our workouts I thought ‘hey, I was a gymnast, I am flexible, yoga should be a breeze’.

Insert hysterical laughter here. Then again, please don’t, it hurts too much.

We put on the DVD, unfurled our exercise mats which had collected about a year’s worth of dust and, with completely false confidence due to our recent workout success, proceeded to be beat within an inch of our lives.

The video was so serene and peaceful set on the shores of a beautiful beach somewhere and Rodney, the instructor, was stretching it out right at the edge of the surf. Ah, how tranquil. He almost whispered the instruction for each pose and took us through a wonderful Awakening routine. I felt calmer, at ease and at one with my yoga mat. Then in an evil plot twist, Rodney decided it was time to teach us who is boss and I suddenly felt a strong compulsion to find that beach, locate him on it and shove him right into the ocean. Of course with the way his back bent I have a feeling he might have simply sprouted fins and a tail and challenged dolphins to a jumping contest, and win. Fucker.

We were supposed to go from bent in a triangle like shape with our head down, hands shoulder length apart, ass toward the heavens (known as Downward Dog in yoga speak) immediately into a position known as Plank where our body is completely flat as if about to do a push up and then into an Upward Dog where our thighs are touching the mat and somehow we are meant to arch our back and extend our heads so they touch the back of our knees or something. And we are supposed to move from one pose to the next within a millisecond, with completely fluid motion and complete this at least 25,000 times in a row. Damn you Rodney. Damn you and your Sun Salutation right into the pits of hell.

After S and I were finished with our special torture we all got lunch, eventually had dinner and ended up playing Rock Band with a couple beers last night. We decided to mix it up and all played our worst instruments so it would be goofy fun (and it was) and after a lot of laughs, S announced she was about ready to go in the hot tub. What a fine idea! We capped off the evening in 102 degree awesomeness and after about fifteen minutes of relaxation we all went to our respective beds for the night.

One would think that a hot tub would help ease muscles. One would imagine pulsating jets soothe away all aches and pains from Rodney’s video which I will forever refer to as “Agony (Even for Masochists)”. One would be wrong. I woke up this morning barely able to move let alone walk as every muscle in my body reminded me of the fact that until yesterday they were purely there for decoration. Namaste my ass.

This week S and I will resume our regularly scheduled biking, rowing and core training on the ball. But because I am a stubborn old broad I will force myself to take on Rodney again too. Yeah, you think you can break me Mr. Flexible with your rubber band body? Not a chance. As soon as I can bend over again I say bring it on buddy. Bring on the Agony. Because bathing suit season is only six weeks away.