Staff of Life

My sister is on an app called My Fitness Pal. On this app you can record what you eat, when you exercise and it will keep track of your personal calories. I thought why not, I will download and watch what I eat too. You enter in your person stuff like height, weight, goals, and etc. And it gives you the number of calories you should have per day- pretty easy. So I enter what I eat and it breaks it down into what I have left, calorie wise and it also puts what I've eaten into a into a pie chart (mmmm pie). So basically I discover that all I eat is carbs and fat. Well I don't want to know that! I tell my sister this sucks. I will starve if I take out those out of my daily food intake they are my primary food groups. She says, "they all tell us not to eat carbs", I say, " 'they' are angry angry dead people invading blissful living peoples bodies and trying to make us suffer as much as they did!" Mean irritable ghosts are just people who suffered without 'happy food'. My theory. A&E or Sci-Fi (whichever channel) can have 'Ghost Hunters' just lay out some warm crusty on the outside soft on the inside bread and put it in haunted houses and boom problems solved. Your welcome. Sorry, I'm just pissy because I haven't had enough organic compounds composed of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen, Thank you dictionary.com...

Purrrrr

I am a lazy human which translates to I am a cat. I can sleep 16 hours a day. I can get up to do my business, bathroom, eat and have some water. I move from furniture to furniture sitting on couch, chair, floor, but ultimately I make my way back to the warmth of the bed. There I stretch, roll, curl up, and eventually fall asleep. Sometimes when I am awoken I stir, wipe at my eyes, and even make a sort of meow type sound. I might even get up at that point or roll over back to my comatose sleep. Sure I bathe in a real bathroom using a real shower with real soap products, I'm not a total double jointed freak that you read about in... ok I'm gonna stop there because for one I just threw up in my mouth a little. And I'm technically an outdoor cat otherwise I would be an indoor (duh) and with people there's some type of phobia link to indoorism- scaredtogooutphobia or something like that. I even shed, I have a mop of hair on top of my head and like cat hair you find it anywhere I roam. I also know cats don't read or write like I am now...unless they are speaking to me in a cat language that only cats communicate to each other and they are telling me I'm a flipping cat! Crap! Now I talk to cats, this revelation is making me tired...pet me...that's me talking...I think??

In a Flash

I have to share! The working out is finally paying off! I got up and had a huge breakfast, I mean BIG. Eggs, French toast, bacon, some hash browns, I was wobbling full. Later I went to the movies and got the barrel of popcorn and gallon of pop and of course I had to pee during the movie! I hate that, I pay $2,000 for the show and snacks I don't want to miss anything, sucky or not.  And it wasn't sucky, it was 'Silver Linings Playbook' which I totally recommend. So I  ran to the bathroom, I was literally running. Only knocking down two small children, tripping myself once, and embarrassing myself ... Ok joking on two of those last three items!! But I ran to the loo (fancy toilet word) and ran back to my seat with all that crap in my gut, no heaving breathing, and I didn't puke! I know you are all amazed, now if I could just look like one of those female Olympic volleyball players, maybe if I cut back on the big breakfasts and popcorn? Ha- ha hahaha...no...

Truth

An elliptical machine is just a like being in a marching band but without the enthusiasm or gigantic cymbals.

Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition 2014?

I have continued to work-out doing the spin classes twice a week. I believe I have said before that the instructor has stayed after to take us under her wing, pushing us to do more exercises. The big inflated ball is what we use for a lot of them. The ball is used for push-ups, sit-ups, lunges, a roll off the ball smash your face in the hardwood floor thing, leg lifts, and more things that show my uncoordinated self. We have the yoga mat on the floor as we work and the instructor will come by me hovering and say "the faces you make" and laugh, I'm thinking I have no idea what my face is doing as I'm just trying not to pull, break, tear, or hyperventilate any part of my body. Apparently I'm quite the comedian, no words just face actions. If silent movies come back I'm a shoe-in. We also use weights, cuz these guns won't load themselves...hahahaha...oh ok. But the next day after my marathon workout I will have some twinges in my ab, not abs I only got one. And maybe a sore butt cheek, I know a pain in the butt... hahahaha...oh ok, but not the whole butt. But now the biggest accomplishment is I have added an extra day of exertion, don't get all rah rah sis boom bah for me yet. I do the elliptical which is the legs up and down and arms back and forth machine. This thing is mean, like 10 minutes in and I'm sweating and gasping for air. It's what people do when they pull themselves through the desert towards the beautiful palm covered pond, only to discover that it's a mirage and you need to snap out of it and get off the f*^#ing contraption and save yourself!! Nap time is now anytime, I do try to restrain myself while driving but other than that I could snooze anytime or anywhere. If I'm not passed out  look for me me strutting my hard abbed and one buttock higher that the other self at your local grocery store searching for food to feed the muscled beast I may become...hahahaha...oh...ok....

Sitting Pretty

Oscar night! My red carpet look is cotton, slouchy, couch attached to my ass chic. My look is provided by Old Ikea, Old Navy and Ikea's new venture into the world of fashion. I will be munching on my household staple of M&M's. Be envious and jealous, I understand.

Liar, Liar

I went to get a new scale, as the one I have at home seems to be on the fritz. After weighing myself on mine, the number seemed way off and I have the sense its thinking to hard. So I went to Target and picked up a new fancy calibrated by monks on top of a mountain in Nepal, sturdy as The Rock, lifetime battery, with all the bells and whistles scale, let's hope it whistles "woot woo". I got it home, stripped down- not even a sock left, and stepped on it. Unbelievably its wrong too, that same pesky number came up! It's not even close to the number on my drivers license! I guess I have to write a letter to the makers of the scale...Dear Scale Maker, I'm thinking of a number, appropriate to my height and hair mass, you are not close, so I'm asking for a refund. I hope in the future you can provide me with customer satisfaction....

Happy President's Day!

Taylor sends out tweet, "all-you-can-eat at IHOP, boyzzz! President's only!" Buchanan quickly mass texts, leaving out Polk. "Don't invite Polk he just likes to brag how he 'inspired' the Washington Monument, he will be all like, "My tailor had to take these pants out again fellas!" Then asking for fist bumps, such an ass!"   Harding texts back, "don't forget Hoover, dam this and dam that, it's a frickin wall to keep out water! I know I wasn't that popular but I did drop that Budget Bureau thing! People still talking about that in '98! And don't even get me started on Lincoln, "Spielberg made a movie about me, you see Sally Field is my wife- hubba hubba, so cocky!" Nixon texts, "come on guys forgive and forget I say!" Carter chimes in, "shut up Dick." And so on and on...

It's Me, Zella!

	I found this definition for Zella on urban dictionary, the title of my blog is 'My Life So Far' with Zella attached. I borrowed the name Zella from my great-great grandma or just one great can't remember. I loved this entry and wanted to share it.  I'm sure it would apply to her as it applies to me today (ha-ha)...GG Zella walking down a dirt path in her floor length dress, white bonnet, and small kerchief tied around her neck, a little dusty with a sun-kissed glow on her cheeks but looking fine as in F.I.N.E!
	1. ZELLA A totally sexy babe. Guys want to be with her, girls want to be her. She knows she's gorgeous, and flaunts it. Boyfriend: damn that was one fine zella walkin by Girlfriend: but you like me better, right? Boyfriend: can't say that I do {chases the zella}

Rump shaker

Someday after accidentally exposing my ass in the unshaded home window I will be able to tweet something witty and make the twitter hash tag #thankyouspinclassIdon'thateyoutoday. Until then the duck and cover rule applies...

Dolla dolla bill ya'll

I was so excited to hear my daughter had a dance coming up, and we could, with her permission, go dress shopping! My sister wanted to go too, this is epic for us a real live dress- up doll (but this one talks back- ugh). Back on topic, I decided to go to Nordstrom's! Look it up if you don't know what I'm talking about. I don't have Nordstrom money but I wanted to have a gander at what the froufrou are wearing. Let me say first the store was busy, I know it was a Saturday but we can't all be here to have a gander, can we? Recession hasn't hurt this group of shoppers. A shirt in this store can equal a car payment (a nice car). Car payment, shirt, car payment, beautiful silky woven from butterfly wings that caresses the skin shirt, or car payment...I'm focused! We headed to the juniors department, where there were some thin mints hanging around who weren't close to being juniors, but hanging on, you go grandma! I was surprised that the dress area wasn't that bad, price wise. So we grabbed a couple frocks and headed to the fitting room or in Nordstroms, the dressing area. My sister didn't get to come in actual changing room, daughter vetoed. So she was stuck outside the door singing 'One is the loneliest number' or tapping on the door repeatedly or "I can hear you talking, what's so funny, what's happening, let me in, I'm blood, come ooooonnn, it's taking forever, show me show me", you get the drift. Somewhere in between we inherited a salesgirl, Jemma, she was a gem! She brought us stuff from all over the store, shoes, dresses from another areas, cardigans, this is what you get when you have money, or when you look like you will spend it, it is called customer service, this is when assistance and other resources that a company provides to the people who buy or use its product or service (shout out to dictionary.com). I mean I wanted to ask for one of those fancy coffee drinks but I don't drink them or know their names, cocoa milky choka? Creamy dreamy foamy vanilla beany thing? Five dollar brown gloopy glow? I bet I coulda got one, for real people. We decided to put a dress and shoes on hold and continued the mall circuit. We even ate the customary Auntie Anne's pretzels, I should say my daughter and I did. My sister did not! She is not only spinning with me, I'm sure you've heard about, but watching what she eats! I know, I know, I am having a 'get together' for her tomorrow night, when all her loved ones surround her in a room, read her their hand-written heartfelt letters, and send her to the mall food court or airport terminal until she feels better, 30 days or so. Ultimately we ended up with the Nordstrom dress, so cute a black and white number with a little lace. But we couldn't do the cute shoes, I hadn't seen the price originally, they weren't  a car payment but definitely an electric bill! 

Call me She-Ra

Why this work out/exercise thing? It's not really for weight loss, I mean if I lose 5 lbs or so I won't be disappointed or sue or anything. But who am I kidding, if I lose it, it will come from my boobs. Women are cursed with this belly thing, it just hangs on, I know I ate a whole cheesecake but dammit I'm a woman with issues!  As for my breastisisis (yes its a word by me) I cannot share, I mean spare 5lbs from them! If that happened I would have to shave my head and wear a robe and be a Hare Krishnah or I guess just shop in the juniors department, whichever. The exercise started so I wasn't so wimpy and weak. My sister and I always talk about if we were being chased by a madman, bear, a knife wielder, zombie (although they don't run they drag but still frightening!), or whatever, we would just lay there and die, or if we got stranded, no phone, in the middle of nowhere and we had to walk miles, forget it, just say good- bye to our children. I mean I'd like to put up a little fight but at this point of my training, little is all I could give. Although now I've shown how uncoordinated I am, this could help me. Perhaps if I were in mortal danger I would fall/trip and save myself. I'd trip as soon as he swung his huge hairy arm at me, so he would miss, as I tried to get up I would inadvertently knock him down with my flailing appendages, having him land on a rock or something giving me extra time to steady myself only to trip on him pushing his head back into the rock and now he's bleeding profusely, ya know head wounds. I would be rewarded more time to grab a car tire (it would be there) and put it around him, trapping him within the thick rubber, he wouldn't be saved unless someone helps and there wouldn't be anyone, as he would be working alone, dumb move right? And yes maybe lifting a car tire is my ultimate goal! Not that I thought about it much...

Trying my best

My new things for 2013

* exercise, duh that's all I write about

* reading books, major fail so far and I like to read, go figure
*sleep- I believe this is my strength. Can I get paid for this?!...Zzzzzzz

*positivity, I would give myself  7.23 on the 10 scale, I'm almost positive that's what I would give myself or 6.97, or less, not sure

* skincare, I'm obsessed. I will read/review/research about all of it. Moisturizers, serums, brighteners, fade creams, masks, scrubs, and night creams, I didn't even cover all the options. This market is crazy full of stuff and they know what they are doing because I'm hooked. I could live inside a Sephora or Ulta and never be bored, probably hungry but not bored. As I re-read this I'm a sad sad sucked in consumer...help. Oh and do I look younger?...if I placed you in a dark room, blindfolded you, and you put gloves on and then touched my face, I guarantee you wouldn't know how old I am.

*back to sleeping, this has been a nice goal for last umpteen years. I really believe I and I am the General, Sensei, President of this, I know I will call my doctor...

I can feel my heart beating!

This was written prior to the post "What Time Is It?"-
Ok, I can't stop talking about my physical Ed class, I mean exercise. My third time back to spin class and the instructor gave my sister and I gel seats for our bikes. Squishy, smooshie, squashy gel seats! As I got on the seat I was as careful as a librarian in heels walking on bubble wrap in front of her Master librarians in the library, get it? Ya know cautious... very very cautious.  But sitting went surprisingly well, don't get me wrong I felt it but on the plus side I was on the freakin' torture two-wheeler. Today I seemed to be the focus of the instructor. She zoned in on me, eye contact and the demands of just me! I kept pointing my head to the left to where my sister was, like hey she's over there, it's her you want, slacker alert, get her, she doesn't like kittens, all spoken with my head nods. Nope it was me, 30 seconds power thru and 30 seconds slow down, up and down, up and down, I tried to break the eye contact, I closed my eyes, looked to the ceiling, but I'd just glance back and BOOM she was there Mano-a-mano, crap. But again I brag I survived, I am alive. After all the Lance's (I don't know any other famous bikers truthful or not) left the class, the instructor gave us a  personal lesson on an upper body workout. Now have you seen those big inflated plastic balls?  That's what she wanted us to use. This is the moment when it is confirmed that I absolutely have no coordination, I have this sudden awareness how lucky I am to make it through a day, any day. A day involves stairs, walking, dressing myself, breathing, etc, I am blessed to be alive. Anyway basically we lay on the ball to do push-ups, well that's what your supposed to do, I'm rolling around trying to grab air to prevent from falling off and cracking my face. And you sit on the ball and lean back to do sit-ups, again you would think I was trying to work a balance beam with clown shoes, twisting, flailing, spazzing, and finally falling. And some other ball things, which I again manage with such gracefulness... ha. This day is at least another notch in my belt, it is over...

What day is it?

Oooooh, arrrrggh, ugh, oochie ouchie, no, more, tear, burn, ugh, water, water, water , ouchie ouch ouch, mommy,burning, burn, ouch ouch,  ass ass go%da*\'',  €^|~$?!@,  evil, @!*%!!$,  I'm soooory so soooory, flipping fuc$t@/!%',  water,  water,  ice, ice, ass, ow ow ow, ... Actual words from me at today's  spin class

One last thing before I go...

Highlights to spice up a loved ones obituary, is that really wrong? Maybe to see if people pay attention and/or let the living have a fun non-fact which they believe is real, that can be passed on for generations and/or maybe people can just have a laugh and not be sad.
*Muse for Mötley Crüe's Girls, Girls, Girls song
*Created steak tar-tar
*Was so funny that many wore pee pads in her presence
*Back up dancer for McHammer
*Won a Connect Four tournament, never lost a match
*Invented the color blue
*Collected (stole) spoons from every restaurant/dinner/lunch eaten at
*Watch every episode of The Love Boat 12 times
*Like to scare random people at the grocery store
*Never once sneezed in the presence of the Queen

So many more,  just thought we could make it happy-bits instead of obits.

Shocker!

I have heard that autobiography's and in-depth memoirs are a good way to free your mind and make a buck or two. Greg Brady said he made out with his TV mom, which upset the Brady Bunch crowd, I mean gag. Pete Townshend just revealed in his new book that he has/had the hots for Mick Jagger, which is also unsettling, I mean gag. Happy Day's Scott Baio stated that once his one time girlfriend Pam Anderson got breast implants, he knew their relationship is over, she had gone too Hollywood. Isn't he know for dating actresses and living in Hollywood? Ummm? Sally Field had like 17 different personalities, a little girl, an old lady, a teenage boy...wait that might have been a movie. I guess that guy Willy with the orange helper guys was probably some movie I saw too. Anyway, I thought this may be a cathartic exercise, for the mind, not the body because you all know I'm a spin ninja. Ok so here goes, I'm biting the bullet, I'm going grin and bare it, blah and blah...I neve











nd I thank god for that. What happened? Where are all my words??? Crap, its like Superbowl 2013, lights out! I do feel better, I'm glad I got that out, really no reason to rehash or rewrite that aaaallll over again... Phew...

Bizarre Concoctions

I had this dream about Matt Damon. I don't love Matt Damon, I like him but he's not on my hottie list, joking I don't have a hottie...oh who am I kidding- Tom Hardy, "Hey, Tom!!" Or Adam Levine, " Hi Adam!"... Oops off track.  I think I dreamed about Matt because I had seen this clip about Matt Damon and Jimmy Kimmell. Matt takes Jimmy hostage, funny stuff. Back on track me, so Matt and I were walking the neighborhood stopping youngsters from fighting and arguing. There was a group of 8-10 year olds bumping heads over some toy thing, Matt stepped in and I'm not sure what he even said or how he stopped the dispute. As we walked away from the crowd  I yelled back something like 'you don't want Matt Damon to come back here!' What the heck is that about? So I try to interpret it myself using the web and Google, heard of it? One site states that I am seeking my pursuit for pleasure, uh um? And that the actor or actresses name may be a pun on his or her name. Matt Damon- Flat Demon? Lost on the pun thing, what's a pun? When you dream of children you do not know that supposedly signifies that you possess some attribute or trait that has yet to be discovered. What? I don't know because I don't! And watching the arguing  may mean that your feelings towards an event in your waking life are ambivalent (conflicting- dictionary.com). My amusement adventure toward my mysterious characteristic which I'm hesitant about. Crap, I'm just gonna see if Matt Damon wants to bring back ABC's After-school Specials. "Conflict in the Front Yard",  "Managing Run-Ins", "Mommy's Perplexing Quirk", I don't know...

A Second Try

I don't want to go on and on about my spin class but I do want you all to know I went back, in pain but I returned. I wasn't as confident and I was being a sloppy spinner. This means I couldn't keep my feet in those caged pedals contraptions. I popped my foot out three times or so messing up my already choppy rhythm. I just couldn't keep up, sitting was painful but now standing was painful. Our music theme was the Superbowl and the stand sit stuff was intensified by a zillion. If I was on a real bike, on a real road, really moving, I would be dead by now- total squashed squirrel. The instructor gave me the 'we're almost home look' because I was giving off that flattened roadkill look, ya right I was stuck still 3,000 miles away! The key to making it is don't listen to the instructor at all, stand, if you can, sit, if you can and screw the Tour de France force around me, especially push-up chick, today she was rocking out in a Lycra tank displaying off all her muscle parts- Show off!. Only my sister and I returned to the second class (neighbor bowed out) and my sis is following the STDFF too. Doing whatever she can to stay on the torture cycle. But this is a bragging moment, we made it! And we walked on the track afterward! I want to say I am bruised, my lower legs look like they have been removed to hit someone and then placed back on me. So much for the gorgeous gams but if your into greenish brown spotted posts, I'm your gal!

Spin- part 3

I left you all as I was putting on my phoney baloney, push through it face and luckily for me class was winding down. We had slowed down our roll, ha he ha... And now we were now able to dismount (this will become my favorite thing in life, getting off the flippin' bike). The instructor finishes with stretches. We use our bikes as our support and pull, lean, bend, point, twist, shout (jk) and etc. At this point I'm a little woozy, not faint woozy, just a whoa moment of learning what legs are again and how they need to support the rest of me! And done, we are done, cheerleader yell in my head " Rah." (that's all I got, wasn't a cheerleader nor do I have energy for more words), phew. Now my neighbor and my sister are like hey- 'lets walk around the track and stuff' and I'm all like- 'sorry got plans (its 645a) and such'. I get the tilted head look from both of them like- 'what are you doing?'  And of course I say 'I'm repairing a shirt for my kid today' and run off as I say it, no not really run more like mosey off. I arrive home in one piece and pass out. When I awake I'm not to bad, my loin area is definitely been disturbed, but I'm up and I gotta go to work. Standing I'm a champ, the sitting  part not so much... ouchie. The next day I felt new hurt in my legs. I now realized why people have those metal handrails by toilets, its for people who take spin class... Look I'm getting an education.

Fake it till you make it. Spin part 2

We ended with my gorgeous legs but I digress, I have yet to actually get on the bike. So I was saying I thought you would just hop on, boom ta-da. Well no.  You must customize the bike for you, height, seat, and handle bars.  And you need to get your shoes in these little cage things for the pedaling purposes. Oh and you have three choices of where your water can be placed, right side, left side, or in the middle, now I'm prepared to 'spin'. Let me say a cinch, just a pro at this turning of  the legs. The class is not huge maybe 10 -12 people and we are fitting right in. Of course this is the first 60 seconds and now the instructor puts on the headset microphone thingee and turns on the music, today the music selection is themed 'rain', Smoke on the Water, Purple Rain, Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head, and etc. I'm still confident smiling and nodding at the fellow exercisers, giving the 'crappy weather outside' face and 'comfy in here' looks, the silent conversations. I do a little hands free biking trying not to look so cocky as obviously I'm a natural, duh. And then it happens just as a small pang of pain in my left outer crotch area, but I'm good no pain no gain they say. The instructor begins her instruction, she tells us to turn the nob to the right to get some more resistance (this will be my new enemy this freakin' nob) and stand and bike 45 secs, and sit, and nob right, and stand, and sit, and pang, and this crap goes on and on. I am now in full pang mode, I look to my sister who is pointing to her butt area and giving me the silent holy s&%$ what are we doing here look, we should have just gone out to breakfast for some homemade waffles and strawberry lemonade or even a smoothie (we have a bond, I can read her). The instructor notices my apparent troubled look and gets off her bike and comes over. I forget she is miked and I say 'burning crotch' or something just as horrifying in my lovely amplified voice. But smile I it off as I'm so funny- ha he ha... although the only one with me is my sister, tough biker crowd.  I think the instructor says I need to wear something, I'm thinking no maxi pad can cover this whole area, maybe she means a Depends, the incontinence product, which should have more coverage but won't look nice under my cute pants, anyway she isn't saying that, she she is saying gel seat, yes I laugh, a good ole gel seat, wth is that? She want me to gel 'my' seat up or the bikes seat up, ugh. Back to up and down crap, and the lady across from me hops of her bike and starts doing push-ups, real ones and not the girl kind like the we learned in middle school! Show off, right! Did I mention I'm dying now? The class is also older than me so I am making this hardened healthy ass-kicking face like I'm a boss...

Spin Me - Part 1

"Lets do a spin class", this was my brilliant idea. A spin class is not where you spin in circles till you fall laughing, which would have been fun except now I'd probably puke since I'm not as young as I used to be (ok older!). It's a class with stationary bikes where you just ride easy breezy into the sunset with cute outfits, so I believed. The participants my sister, who's main work out is stretching for the TV remote or finding her plug for her nook. Myself, my work out routine is doing laundry and shaving my legs. Finally my neighbor who actually has lost weight before through the magic of "exercise". So the class we found starts at 545a, yes I hear the rooster, and its located nearby. Basically setting us up for no excuses, we can all make this work, genius right? First class day we arrive at 530a only to be greeted by the guard, 60ish lady who wants all our details of our belonging there, I have on a sports bra what else could she want?!  Twenty minutes later we finally open the glass doors to a dim lit room with a mirrored wall and hardwood floors, where skinny someone's are already in full pedal mode. I mean narrow people, just walking stick little, and I have been called skinny but this is thin. Ok so I thought I'd hop on and ride and then I'd have abs and legs, the kind of legs where I would have to get insurance on, because they are so effing fantastic!