It’s February First

In case you hadn’t checked the date yet today.

To me, it feels more like New Years Day than New Years Day did.

The beginning of the year was packed with traveling and Christmas and more traveling and more Christmas… and more traveling and more Christmas… and then one more traveling to get home. We ate and ate and ate and ate some more, and slept like shit on an air mattress and a full-sized bed.

On top of all that, I had finally received the demand letter which was to go to the drunk driver’s insurance company so we can finally settle this damn thing. I learned that he had gotten picked up while driving under revocation and I think I laughed for about an hour. I could have bet anyone any amount of money that he would have done that and I would have won whatever amount of money I had bet. Some people just don’t learn. I had typed up an entry ten days after his sentencing a year ago about how I desperately hoped that he had gotten the wake-up call he needed and that every day since the accident had been filled with reevaluation and change.

Guess not. Idiot.

The days after traveling were filled with sleep, laziness, Fallout 4, and more laziness. It was amazing. Andrew was off of work, waiting to start his new job, so we got to actually spend time together. Even though, toward the end, he started getting cabin fever, I was so damn happy to have him home. We hadn’t gotten that kind of time together since… I don’t know when. It was a nice prize after suffering through his shitty Pac Sun hours.

Then, as he was about to start his new job at Target, I decided to check out the Target site for any openings. There’s a Target Express just right down the street that I’m obsessed with, and they happened to have a Team Lead position available. I applied, even though I had never been in a management position. A day or two later, I got a call to set up an interview.

Since then, I’ve had two additional interviews, and I’m just waiting on pins and needles for The Call. Whatever the decision may be. I’m always a hopeful, err-on-the-side-of-positive person, and I feel like I’ve got the job already. It’s one of those things where I went into it thinking, ‘this would be great, I love Target, I could probably do this job’ and since that first interview, I know this is the job I should have, it’s the job I deserve, and it’s the job at which I’m going to excel.

Then again, I may not get it. Maybe it’s not the right time, maybe it’s not the right any-number-of-things.

We’ll see.

Still doing film production, as if I could give that up. Brentwood Strangler, the short we produced, has won a few film festival awards, and we’re to be filming our first feature film this spring/summer in Australia. I’m so excited to head back to Oz and see my twins! 2016 is really shaping up to be a good year so far.

Also, in the mean time, since all the travel and eating, I’ve changed my diet; I lost the six or so pounds I gained over the holidays, putting me back to where I started. Today, I’m starting the AdvoCare 24 Day Challenge and a five-day workout split. I’ve got a renewed sense of, I don’t know, purpose? I guess? I’ve been visualizing myself doing these lifts and taking progress pictures and, much like with the Target job, I just feel like I’ve already accomplished what I set out to do.

I’m going to be twenty-eight this year. [Jesus]. It’s time I embrace being an adult and take care of what needs care. My body, my mind, my bank account. I got a nice little preparatory month and now the real shit is going to go down. It’s February First and the New Year is officially underway.

Do They Make Spanx Bikinis By Any Chance?

It’s summer again and I’m finally able to spend some time at the pool. (Being unemployed has so many perks).

However, this summer, it’s not work or clouds keeping me from donning that bikini, it’s the fact that it probably won’t fit.

I’m at my heaviest weight. Ever. I thought I was at my heaviest weight ever when I went away to college. 

My freshman year, my roommate and I felt like shit and decided to do something about it. We dieted (a bit too) heavily and spent two or more hours at the rec every day. I dropped thirty pounds instead of gaining the Freshman Fifteen.

Unfortunately, all I’d been doing was cardio and no strength training, so not only was I essentially skin and bones, but I gained it all back (and more) over the past six years. 

Jesus Christ, has it been that long since my freshman year of college?!

During my sophomore and junior years, I managed to run about three miles almost-every day, but I definitely found the pounds I’d worked so hard to lose.

A couple years ago, a coworker talked me into doing a ten-week kickboxing program that’s supposed to just get you shredded. It works if you follow everything to a T, but who am I kidding? I think I lost a bit, and she didn’t lose much either, so we then decided to get a gym membership.

I’ve always phoned it in when it came to working out because I’m chronically out of shape and just lazy. Something about Lifetime made me want to spend no fewer than three hours there. Every night. I’d pop in around 11pm or midnight and wouldn’t leave until two or three in the morning. No one was there, I had the place to myself. I could spend an hour and a half on the stationary bike and watch a couple episodes of Doctor Who, I could use the weight trees and the lifting area usually occupied by super buff dudes, I could sit in the sauna for a half hour and sing along to my iPod. It was glorious.

I noticed after a while of doing that, I toned up quite a bit. I could tell I was turning fat into muscle. 

As usual, there’s always that event that comes along to fuck up all of your progress – – I stopped going to the gym and ordered way too much Jimmy John’s.

So here I am today: at my heaviest weight, at the beginning of summer, dying to go to the pool (well, okay, it’s a bit overcast at the moment), and wishing I’d spent the past six months whipping my body into a shape other than blob (like I’ve done for the past who-knows-how-many summers).

Although, today, I’m optimistic. Now, I go through this every time I start working out. Oh boy, this is sure fun! I love the endorphins and the sore muscles and I’m gonna do so well this time and this will be the last time I’m going to do this so I can just spend my time maintaining my perfect fitness!…. And then I sabotage myself or just get bored or I don’t see progress quickly enough for my liking and then I’m on the Jimmy John’s website before I know what my fingers are doing.

But like I said, I’m optimistic. And I’m kind of at my wit’s end. I know I’ve also said that a million times. I’m going to be twenty-six in six months. I’m an adult. I want to find a man and get married and have kids sometime within the next five years. I want to write a book. I want to feel comfortable with myself. I want my inner confidence to flow outward. I just want to look good because I feel good, and vice versa. Enough is enough. This is my last last straw. 

Since Friday, May 30th, I’ve worked out every day (except my rest day yesterday). Today is National Running Day (or something) so it’s not like I can pass up a run today (even if my legs are fucking killing me). I’ve been on the Health and Fitness Pinterest boards which I knew existed, but never noticed. I made a calendar for the month of June with a smoldering photo of Benedict Cumberbatch on it as inspiration: “He’s giving you the eye. It can either be a look of disappointment or a look of sex – it’s up to you.” (You can have that). I gave myself a stipulation: I can only go to the pool once I’ve lost ten pounds. My overall goal for now: Lose twenty-five pounds. 

I’m ready. I’ve been ready. I’ve started, and I’m going to do this. 

I’d love to enjoy this summer (and, um, fit into any of my shorts), I have mom’s wedding end of August, I’m a bridesmaid in a friend’s wedding in October, my birthday is in October, etc. It just has to happen now. 

And honestly, I feel loads better already. I swear it was the third day, I hadn’t even worked out yet, and I just felt super comfortable with my body. I felt good because I felt sore, I felt good because I’d started this mission, and I felt good because I know where I’m headed and that I’m finally going to get there. I think the recent blast of female empowerment helped, also. My lack of fucks given has increased (or decreased) and I’m going to Walgreens in yoga pants like, oh, I’m sorry, can you see my thighs are a bit ripply at the moment? Well, bring your eyes upward – no, not to my eyes, to my ass. That’s right, my ass. It’s round and shapely and it’s mine. Oh, that bit of jiggle on my tum? Yeah, well, that won’t be around for long, but since it’s here right now, feel free to wish you could run your fingertips over my soft skin.


Another unexpected bout of confidence, and my inspiration for writing today, came from the amount of pins on the Health and Fitness Pinterest board regarding butt-lifting workouts. Or butt-plumping workouts. Or butt-enhancing workouts. I scrolled past about twenty of them before it hit me that I was scrolling past them because I don’t need them. My ‘ghetto-booty,’ as we used to call it, used to bring me to tears in the dressing room because it wouldn’t allow any goddamn pants to fit over it. Today, it brings a tear to my eye because I now realize it’s something to be coveted by men and women alike. 

In fact, I’d be nervous about doing too much cardio in fear of losing it. 

This has been a healing moment between my ego and my ass.

In conclusion, whether you’re wanting to lose weight or gain weight or firm up dat ass or whatever, start now. Just start now. You’ll literally feel better the second you do, and then even better once you finish, and then even better the next day. Then you’ll come to that second life-changing opportunity when you have to decide between making it two days in a row or settling back into old habits. Then you’ll have a chance on the third day to turn it into a streak or wish you’d continued with it yesterday. Whatever motivation, do it for you. Do it to feel better, because even when you gain two pounds the first week (it’s the fluid retention from the muscles repairing themselves, don’t worry), it’s already worth it – it’s your health. It’s your sanity. It’s your confidence. It’s your happiness. 

And in the mean time: embrace the body you have right now because you have it right now. You’re not going to lose three dress sizes after a mile run, so you might as well be okay with you as you are. You’re going to be changing, and embrace all the changes along the way. There’s someone in your life who deserves to have you happy, and that’s you. 

This has been a public service announcement brought to you, in part, by Jimmy John’s.
God, seriously, they’re delicious.


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