What's the Worst That Could Happen?

On the first day of the New Year, I was excited to attend the closing night of the Broadway hit, Wicked. I had a brand new super cute holiday markdown dress on, a hot date, French-manicured Broadway nails pressed on tight and a new weave in tow! We were headed out for a fabulous evening of dinner and theatre – to be said out loud with a British accent, should you be reading this to your mum.

Besides the whole issue with no restaurants being open because it was a holiday causing our dinner to end up consisting of two hot pretzels and bottomless sodas for $15, we were still having a fabulous time. Who cares that I spilled mustard on the theatre’s carpet in front of my date and who cares that the guy behind us made the most interesting grunting sounds after every scene and may or may not have been passing gas every five minutes. That’s actually pretty typical if you ask me.

Prior to the show, I waited for the ladies room in what may have been longer than the Vortex line at Kings Island the day after senior prom in 1996. Unlike that line, we moved quickly. In and out – very impressive for a bunch of women in pantyhose. We neared the entry to the bathroom and the woman in front of me exclaimed as she peered through the door…

“OH NO, I AM NOT GETTING INTO THAT MESS!!”

She then stormed off and I’m positive 20 minutes into the show was regretting her decision. She had already done so much work! The finish line was right there! What on earth could have stopped her? I kept waiting and within moments had completed the task at hand. Full of relief, fresh clean hands and a show to be watched, I headed back to my seat and enjoyed one of the best BW shows I have ever seen.

Two days later I can’t stop thinking about that lady. Why did she give up? What had happened to her in previous bathroom lines that caused her so much grief?

My guess is that eventually she became quite miserable and had to wait in that treacherous line again. Only this time she was more uncomfortable, more agitated, and more impatient because her pain was much greater.

With the start of a new year everyone is thinking about resolutions – weight loss, quitting drinking and smoking, trying new things, get out of debt, etc. etc. I myself, will get back to the gym, work on selling awesome vintage clothes on Etsy.com and try not to be afraid.

Try not to be afraid? Yes, try not to be afraid, not give up due to fear, and embrace the unknown and more importantly, the known. Because this time – it might be different.

You see I believe fear is created only by what you’ve already been through. My guess is that bathroom lady had experienced long lines before and her fear stopped her from trying again. She knew that she would just have to wait more and it wasn’t worth it to her to endure such pain. I wish, that I had stopped her and said -

“Lady, what’s the worst that could happen if you keep waiting?”

She probably would have thought about it and her answer would be something like I might miss the show or my head might explode with negativity. If she had taken a moment to think about her decision and how it would affect her later she may have avoided an uncomfortable situation. Bad example? I don’t know, I’m not an expert. I just talk a lot.

Anyhow, my point is this. This year as you list out your goals and what you want to accomplish – don’t let the grumpy ol’ lady voice from the bathroom tarnish your vision. When you begin to doubt yourself or when others don’t support your goals, ask yourself ‘what is the worst that could happen if I keep trying?’ Then continually ask ‘what else?’. Chances are you’ll be surprised by how little there is to be afraid of. You’ve likely experienced these things before – failure, obstacles, setbacks, heartache, embarrassment, etc. And guess what, you’re reading this so I’m guessing you’re still kicking and you got through it with much more knowledge under your belt – let’s call it your emotional ass-kicking tool-belt which also contains memories of what success and accomplishments look and feel like.

That’s by far the cheesiest thing I’ve said all day. You can eat that cheese with some low-fat Triscuits.

SO… what’s your resolution for 2011 and how do you plan to stay motivated, silence the naysayers and accomplish great things?

Meltin' It Off With Mitch

I’ve always kind of been one of those lucky chicks. You know, the ones who could eat anything and never gain weight. I’ve lived off Taco Bell since I was six years old and my mouth waters at the sight, the scent, even the thought of french fries. I love them all and all for different reasons. McDonalds has cracked the code on fulfilling my monthly cravings, so hot and salty. You know, like a good man. Wendy’s taste heavenly when you dip them in a frosty… also, like a good man. Steak n’ shake dipped in “cheese” if that’s what you call it, waffle fries from Chick Filet just speak for themselves – so good you can’t eat them on Sunday because that day should be reserved for the lord, not fries.

So, I was that chick who ate anything and everything and I have weighed the same since highschool. In fact, until about 6 months ago I could still squeeze myself into my favorite vintage Levi’s I bought when I was 14 from BR Vintage and Kurt Cobain ruled the world. Anyhow, I hope you don’t think I’m bragging, believe me I’m not. Just setting the scene people.

And son of a bitch, it happened again! I turned 29 and I get another smack in the face. Not only did I get tagged with a bunch of unfortunate photos of myself on Facebook this year, I got tagged with ten extra pounds.

The good news is there’s more of me to virtually poke. Bah dum bump (that was me attempting a joke, a terribly bad joke).

Today I = 29 yrs young+ 10lbs + job where they stock the kitchen like Little Boy is about to be dropped and many more reasons to grab drinks and be social than – uh do something about it. (Thanks IndyHub). I suddenly have a strong understanding of the ‘wobbly bits’ Bridget Jones mentioned a time or two and I don’t like it one bit.

I recognized this problem like 2 months ago. Which is why on a Saturday morning some time ago when I could have been working out, I instead chose to drink coffee, eat scones and watch infomercials. Good thing I did! Phew! I discovered ‘Melt if off with Mitch!’. Mitch Gaylord, that is. Not that dude from Indy who doesn’t do the government thing anymore but still has bumper stickers all over the place to prove – he’s the man. Lucky.

Mitch Gaylord, who I guess was in the Olympics, sucked me in and now I am the proud owner of a 2-pound medicine ball, a tape measure, a meal list and a DVD. And Mitch promised me I would lose one size in 3 days!

This week it’s on like D.K. Kong. I bought all of the food yesterday. Sadly, it was not cheap. Oh well, love don’t cost a thing, a tight bootie does.

And, drum roll please, today, I completed day one! I ate all my meals and did the exercises in my living room. Meanwhile, Jack decided I tasted like McDonald’s fries and wanted to lick me non-stop on my feet, ankles, forehead blah blah blah while I was trying to shake my medicine ball.

1 day down- 2 to go. I’ll let you know how it goes. How about for our top ten list let’s list common excuses we make to ourselves to not workout… Ok! I’ll go first.

1)    I need to let Jack out. And it turns out he didn’t really want to go on a walk, but rather preferred to watch Kendra and had a random craving for pizza. If you saw his cute lil’ face, you would never want to tell him no.
2)    I forgot my shoes… again.
3)    It’s Wednesday. Don’t you know it’s five-dollar pitcher night at Scotties?
4)    It’s Thursday. Don’t you know it’s half price martinis at Scholars?
5)    It’s Friday.
6)    I think instead of buying dinner, I’ll buy a new pair of shoes. Skipping a meal is certainly dedication to a better body if you ask me.
7)    I parked really far out there in the lot today at Target. Does that count as cardio?
8)    Ordering off the fresco menu at Taco Bell totally cancels out spinning class.
9)    I’ll just have some sex instead. Oh wait… how much does it really take to burn a few calories? Ouch.
10)    Bally’s closed their doors last month. And old school, down and dirrrrty is the only way to go if you are truly a hardcore health nut. Anybody know where I can find a Gold’s?

Let’s make a toast to no excuses this week. No toasting with alcohol though, just use one of the 8, 8oz. glasses of water Mitch suggests you drink each day.

Project Bellyband

How many people out there had to wash three pairs of flip flops in the dishwasher last night? Not many, huh? You may be wondering why I bring this up. Or you don’t care at all. In which case, you should probably move on to more enlightening and informational articles by my fellow IndyHub Spokes. However, if you want to hear about the main man in my life, then read on sistah! (and brothers of course – though I doubt any men read this stuff)

HE is the most incredible guy. Never talks back. Never questions my motives or thinks I look fat. He is so friggin’ cute too. Big brown eyes, curly hair and a perma grin from ear to ear. He doesn’t care what we do as long as we’re together. If I want to sleep, he’ll sleep. If I want to watch TV, he’ll get the remote. If I’m hungry he could care less about what I want as long as I give him a bite.

His life literally revolves around me and let’s face it, that’s the quickest and most pain free way to this gal’s heart.

So what does this have to do with washing flip flops in the dishwasher on the pots and pans cycle?

Well… my man, he is fabulous – but not perfect. Today was the day I hit the ceiling and realized that I don’t know Jack… about Jack.

Jack Bear Thixton, the man of my dreams, is also my favorite lil’ doggy! My crazy, wild-eyed pup who after almost of year of living with me still cannot grasp the concept of peeing outside -  and not on my shoes.

And it’s not just my shoes… it’s been:

• MY YOGA MAT (IT WAS REALLY AWESOME FIGURING THAT ONE OUT 40 MINUTES INTO CLASS)
• MY HOUSE GUEST’S TENNIS SHOES (HE DOES HAVE A THING FOR SHOES, JUST LIKE HIS MOMMA!)
• THE EDGE OF MY COUCH TEN MILLION TIMES OVER (I TOOK A RAZOR TO IT AND CUT THE WHOLE BOTTOM HALF OF MY COUCH OFF. DON’T ASK.)
• MY FAVORITE NEW FLORAL SCARF (AND I FIGURED THAT OUT HALF WAY TO LA ON A PLANE – GROSS)
• ON MY MOM’S DOG BAILEY MULTIPLE TIMES (WHICH REALLY CRACKS ME UP)
• MY NEIGHBORS WEDDING GIFT FROM BED, BATH & BEYOND THAT I PICKED UP SO NO ONE WOULD STEAL IT OFF THE PORCH. (NOT SURE WHAT IS WORSE, A STOLEN GIFT OR A GOLDEN GIFT FROM JACK)
• AND HE PEED RIGHT ON MY LEG IN FRONT OF MY WHOLE FAMILY AND I WILL NEVER EVER HEAR THE END OF THAT ONE

This list goes on and on and on and on and on.

And I’m not a neat freak by all means, but THIS is just a new level of disgusting that I can no longer handle! Hence the commencement of PROJECT BELLYBAND.

I’ve tried a number of things to get him to stop… stay off sprays, pee here instead sprays, yelling and screaming and shoving his nose in it, the silent treatment and even a little reverse psychology but nothing sticks. Except his stains. Haha – I crack me up.

Anyhow, my dear friend Gwyn used a belly band (basically a doggy diaper) for her dog and her lil’ dude, Luke, is totally healed now! And it’s even kinda cute as it should be for a twenty dollar diaper. So, beginning today Jack will be wearing a belly band until he straightens out his life and starts making better choices. And if I hear one more person say that there are no bad dogs, just bad owners I will remind them of the deep commitment that I made to the man in my life, the man of my dreams -

Jack, I do. Until pee does us part.

No Strings Attached

I feel like societal pariah.

Yes, I paid my taxes. No, I’m not a dead-beat dad, nor am I a terrorist. I’m not a pedophile, geez I hardly even like kids, let alone touch them. I would never kill a person. In fact I almost cried when we hit a squirrel on I-70 on the way to the Indy 500. Actually, I think I’m quite the upstanding citizen if I may say so myself. I work, pay my bills and clean up Jack’s poo in public places. I even do nice things for people like, uh, call them back and listen to problems and give advice.  Geez. I’d even recycle if I could around to it.

But recently, a giant stamp has been showing up on my forehead. You can’t see it without a black light. But shove me under and there it is…  SINGLE. Someone stamped my head over night and didn’t tell me they were going to do it. It just showed up one day.

Today, I pop by my mom’s house for lunch. My whale of an uncle (not fat, just a very large man) is floating on a tiny pink raft in the pool. We get to chatting and after he tells me how much money he makes, offers me beef barley soup and a loan for ten dollars, he says… “are you married?”

“Yes, uncle Jeff. I got married and you didn’t know anything about it.”

“God, I can’t believe you’re not married! How old are you?”

“Dude, I’m 29, shut up.”

“Do you have a boyfriend.”

“No.”

“Why?! That’s so weird.”

My eyes roll, mentally, not physically (because I’m not twelve) and I go eat my beef barley soup which he promises is low in carbs.

Big Jeff Stud is not the only one asking me these types of questions as of late, or mentioning little things such as my biological clock, settling down or meeting the ‘one’. “Perhaps you should be less picky. You’re totally afraid of commitment and MUST be totally sexually frustrated. OR you’re gay! Maybe you should try eHarmony! It’s so much more classy than match.com.”

So here’s the deal, out of nowhere I’m 29 and my gal pals are dwindling… planning big weddings, shower hopping and getting ready to start their new lives. Suddenly, the calls to go shopping, have after work cocktails, do concerts or have pool dates have diminished at an alarming rate!  Now everything is done in couples and you’re rarely invited anymore – but not to worry, every so often, a friend will have  they want you to meet. Well, that is, if they can set up a triple date of couples so it’s not so “awkward”.

Right.

Thing is, I’m really excited for people when they meet someone special and get married! I can understand the place they are in life and think it’s great. And I’d like to think that is true for most people, well, except that one friend who can’t be happy for other people-that would just be too hard. Oh, you know you’ve got one, don’t lie. If you don’t- you are that friend.

Then why is it that just because their place in life has suddenly changed, they think that I am less happy being where I am? And why am I suddenly not part of the club? I’m almost positive this is not in my head- well, my mom says it is, but what does she know. She’s married.

Finally, single gals hit a great point during their late 20s/early 30s – just living life, doing well at work, with clarity around who they are and able to explore the world… and something is wrong with them? Something is amiss?

The only thing missing as of late for me is the connection between me to my favorite girlfriends. Those, dear judgers and societal shunners, are the strings that are no longer attached.

Ten fun myths of being – SINGLE… what others have you heard?

#1: If someone is single past a certain age, there must be something wrong with them like they have halitosis and hammer-time

#2: Single people are irresponsible and hate babies

#3: Single people don’t have family obligations and would prefer to be at Rock Lobster at Christmas

#4: Single people are unhappy being single and go home at night and pray for marriage to a shrine of celebrity couple photos

#5: Single people want you to set them up with your second cousin who has three kids with three different women

#6: At a certain age, a single person is too old to get married and should just live with their cats and call it a day

#7: Single people are uncomfortable hanging out with married people and probably will try to steal your husband or wife

#8: Single people eat take out all the time and rent movies and watch them in their underwear with bras on their heads

#9: Single people party all the time and drive drunk through your yard

#10: You’re not an adult until you are married because then you are definitely mature