Dirty, Dirty, Naughty Girl Liar

Ack!!!! I'll post about this tomorrow. Having champagne with the girls and I want to get my share! :)

Dirty, Dirty, Naughty Girl Liar

My JoyFriend is Better Than Your Boyfriend

Okay, so if you've read this blog, you know I like to rock a different vocabulary and make up new words. My favorite new word is JoyFriend. This weekend - I hung out with a couple of JoyFriends and I can say, my weekend was better than your weekend (unless you had good sex and then maybe it's a tie.)

A JoyFriend is a person that is totally positive and upbeat - they're... well, Joyful. JoyFriends are the friend you can call last minute and they will go anywhere and do anything. Their answer to life is not, "Maybe, let me check"/"I don't know, I've never gone there before"/"Is that going to mess up my hair"? No, they say YES to everything, especially LIFE. More importantly, THEY ENCOURAGE YOU TO DO THE SAME.

Lately, my life has been anything but joyful. My Saturday nights consisted of alphabetizing my magazines in piles to be donated while drinking chardonnay out of an old 7-11 Big Gulp cup. Sometimes I toasted some pita chips, like I was having a party, put them on a fancy plate AND SHARED THEM WITH MY DOG. See, no joy. But lately, I have made a concerted effort to only hang out with the most POSITIVE, RAYS OF LIGHT, SUPER SHINY DISCO BALL types of friends. These types of women will drag you out on a Saturday night in your pajamas. THEY THROW CAUTION AND PITA CHIPS TO THE WIND. They do not take any of my bullshit excuses "But I have to work"/"I have nothing to wear and I smell like a Hobo"/"I have to get up early and... donate... my kidney."

AND THAT HAS MADE ALL THE DIFFERENCE.

How do you spot a JoyFriend? Well, they are upbeat, RAH-RAH, "You Can Do It" just short of you wanting to smack them. They have a zest for life - They always want to try new things. AND THEY KICK YOUR ASS. They are not going to let you dwell on some lame guy that wouldn't even pay for valet parking on a date, made you walk five blocks in heels only to make you split potato skins at the bar. THEY KNOW YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN THAT. And they will root you on until you know it too.

The weird thing about hanging out with self-confident, emotionally healthy, super strong, vivacious ladies is pretty soon, you start to feel that way. 'Cause JoyFriends do not hang out with losers. So I raise my glass to my awesome JoyFriends. Yes, it's chardonnay but it's in a real fancy glassy glass and not a sad 7-11 plastic cup. See, I'm learning.

My JoyFriend is Better Than Your Boyfriend

Yay! I'm Off to The Gym :)

This is very exciting, like Christmas morning if I was four. (God, I wish I was four. Everything is so perfect when you're four.) I'm kinda nervous to go back to the gym. The gym I joined three months ago and then have NEVER SET FOOT IN AGAIN. What if they have a weight limit and won't let me in? What if I can only last thirty-five seconds on the elliptical before I get red faced and huffy and puffy? Should I have my insurance card and information about the closet hospital stuffed in a plastic case and dangling around my neck? What if I put my iPod on and run on the treadmill and then can't hear the wheezing and struggling of that poor machine shaking and quivering underneath my GIA-NORMOUS GIRTH and people are laughing and pointing and the manager is called over and I'm asked to get off and he swears, this is so much more embarassing for him than me, but would I please leave?

Or what if it's just really fantastic and amazing and great?

Yay! I'm Off to The Gym :)

Apparently, Having 3 Gym Memberships is Still Not Enough to Make Me Go

I have three gym memberships. That's three memberships I've paid for. That's three gyms I don't go to. The first gym is my fancy gym. It's so fancy, it's actually called a Tennis Club as in, "I'll see you at the club!" and "Let's have lunch at the club." It also has a bar WHICH MAKES NO SENSE TO ME!!! It was L, my partner in crime, who beat me out of the locker room one day and I found sitting out on the patio (It's a Club, of course it has a patio!) drinking an Amstel Light. At 3:30pm! After a workout! Well, it would have been rude if I didn't, too. It would make her feel bad. And I do not like people feeling bad.

Okay, my second gym membership, aka the skanky gym, is so close, I pass it everyday on my way to the grocery store, dry cleaners, coffee shop and library. (IT'S LIKE IT'S TAUNTING ME!) I say skanky because after you have been spoiled by FANCY GYM with towel service, a steam room, SHAMPOO, CONDITONER & BODY WASH and a cute guy that wipes your sweat off the ellipital and brings you razors (and would probably shave your legs with them if you asked), it's kind of a downgrade to have to haul in your own towel, body washing... materials and wonder what kind of Hepatitis you contracted from being in the ladies locker room.

My third gym I pass, as I'm passing my second gym, on my way to the grocery store, dry cleaners, coffee shop and library. But I can't possibly go to that gym because... it's CURVES. Curves is a fat girls' gym and if I go there it's like saying I'm one of them and then I will be way too defeated to work out. I feel so much better, instead, driving by it, giving Curves the finger as I talk on the phone and wolf down my (second) slice of double peperoni pizza (tomato sauce is so healthy for you!)

UGH!!!! I'M A MESS. I could screw up a free meal as my Dad would say (Joe is always there with words of comfort which I why I think I have such high self-esteem. Insert eye-roll.) Okay, okay. I'm not writing again until I GOT TO ONE OF MY THREE GYMS. (Okay, maybe I will, I might have something excellent to say about Thanksgiving... BUT NOT AFTER THAT!) Today I tried on a top that made me all of a sudden not be so mad that my Mom had once given me a maternity top for Christmas (insert eye roll). 'Cause that's what this one looked like and I DID NOT LIKE IT ONE BIT!

I'm not dieting. Dieting is female torture. But if I was really REAL WITH MYSELF, I would remember that I FREAKIN' LOVED WORKING OUT. I loved how strong and kick ass I felt. I loved how powerful I felt. I loved that I fit into all my clothes and looked cute. That felt more like the me than the girl who writes off a gym just 'cause it's a big gals gym... 'cause HELLO, I think I'll fit right in.

Apparently, Having 3 Gym Memberships is Still Not Enough to Make Me Go

I Like It Free (My Life as a Professional Party Crasher)

I just picked up my mail and among a ton of bills that I don't know when I'll pay or with what money came a letter from my past life. It was from the Four Seasons and it was offering me one free night if I booked a two night stay. (Which is funny because the biggest luxury in my life right now is pre-cut salad.) Now, let's be clear, I'm more of a Best Western gal than a Four Seasons girl but I had this... I don't know, dream, goal, wish, that I would like to stay there once in my life so when my sister and I went to Hawaii three years ago we stayed there for one night.

The view was beautiful, the lounging area and the pool, incredible. They even greeted us with beautiful leis which felt very "Fantasy Island" & "Love Boat" all at the same time. Because E & I couldn't afford to STAY & EAT at the Four Seasons, we walked down to a neighboring hotel for dinner. E was mad that I made her where her lei (probably because it covered up her enormous cleavage... she likes it "out" like that.) But I insisted and because I was paying, she had to obey (though she probably did just to shut me up.)

So we're walking to the neighboring hotel, in our leis, with my sister's giant cleavage somewhat covered up and WE SEE THAT IN ORDER TO GET INTO A PARTY AT THE NEXT HOTEL you have to be wearing THE SAME LEIS THAT THE FOUR SEASONS GAVE US. In the distance I can see an open bar, a buffet table for miles and a feast of desserts. And I think, "Why buy dinner when we can use our leis for FREE?" This is gonna be AWESOME.

BECAUSE I LIKE IT FREE.

We gorged ourselves on FREE That night and tried to look like we were engaged in intense conversation so no one at this party/conference/whatever would ask us who we knew/who we worked for/why we were there.

THE NEXT NIGHT WAS EVEN BETTER.

By now we had moved to the Fairmount (and got a FREE UPGRADE ON OUR HOTEL, my sister's boobs sure do come in handy). This time there was a huge Radio conference at the hotel WITH A BUFFET STYLE PARTY. ROCK ON! Our adrenelin was pumping. Crashing a buffet entails huge risks because you are waiting in a super slow line with PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY BELONG THERE. We got through it. E ate six desserts by herself (I know, I hate her, she is such a skinny B).

My point is, when the Four Seasons offer came in, I didn't feel sad. I don't miss the life of being able to stay in a super lux hotel, I miss the life of the DARING, MISCHIEVIOUS, VIVACIOUS, RISK-TAKER GIRL. The girl who cut in front of someone at the Radio party (Someone who belonged there!) to get the last egg roll. Okay, maybe I can't always crash parties. But I won't sit around and mope at my financial situation either. Just yesterday I typed in key words "half-price" and "happy hour" - IT'S ALL OUT THERE WAITING FOR US, LADIES. Some of the nicest restaurants in Beverly Hills had nights with half off dinners, other had specials on drinks or appetizers. The point is "OUT" IS WHERE THE PEOPLE ARE.

No matter what your financial situation, you need to be out where the people are so you don't get bummed about the fact that you can barely stretch your check to next week. And when you can spend less and still have fun, you'll feel good. Okay, I gotta go check what hotels are hosting parties this weekend so I know where I'm going and how to dress :)

I Like It Free (My Life as a Professional Party Crasher)

$1 Dollar Drink Specials + Empty Stomach x Missing ex-BF = Disaster

It's Thursday night and what's a girl who has been striking all day in her Converse slides to do? Go out and get some refreshment, that's what! I didn't need to know much about the bar that was serving $1 dollar glasses of WINE or BEER (imported and domestic!) except that they were serving $1 dollar beer and wine (imported and domestic!). My Union, the WGA, has been on strike for 2 weeks now with no end in sight. When you can't work 'cause you're striking and when words like "there's no end in sight" send my bowel into a shaking-quaking mess - you start to feel like there's nothing to look forward to.

Well, I found it, it's this bar, THE GRIFFIN, that serves dollar drink specials to WGA writers, which means on top of making it cheaper for me to drink at their fine establishment than at home, I also don't have to withstand the HUMILIATION OF MY DOG looking at me with his judging eyes as I take "the edge off" my day with a half bottle of two buck Chuck.

The Griffin is everything you want to be: low lit, giant banquettes to sit in, two fireplaces, a superb selection of music and I think I have mentioned, the UNBELIEVABLE DRINKS which are the low, low, price of one dollar. The problem with a deal like this is... it's like that little black dress you see in the store marked down from 300 bucks to 30 and YOU JUST HAVE TO HAVE!!! IT'S SUCH A GOOD DEAL!!! You'd be a fool not to buy it! Yeah, it might exactly fit right... or zip up... but it's so cheap. YOU DESERVE IT! Go ahead... it's not like anything bad can happen.

Um... yeah, maybe not with the dress but bad things can happen when you consume four $1 dollar glasses of chardonnay on an empty stomach. Bargains are not always something to rave about. Sometimes bargains can have a downside. Like grabbing your friend's cell phone and trying to call your ex-boyfriend BECAUSE YOU REALLY HAVE TO TELL HIM SOMETHING RIGHT NOW!!! Four glasses of chardonnay has never given you so much clarity in your life. WHAT'S HIS NUMBER??? WHAT'S HIS NUMBER???? (My ex-b has a new one, so while I was fairly confident I knew most of the numbers... I wasn't sure what their combination would be or what three of them were.) Yes, I'm a delight.

So there I am out on the corner of the street after having wrestled my friend L's phone away from her, (CHARDONNAY GIVES ME EXTRA SUPER HUMAN STRENGTH), dialing about four hundred and fifty combinations of what his phone number could be and screaming at two directory assistant woman: "I know this is the street he lives on... okay, maybe it's not that one. Can you try Tremont?"

I woke up the next morning, my head banging from a hangover, my arm hurting from wrestling L to the ground for her phone (she knew what I wanted that phone for and she did not approve!) and the overwhelming feeling of relief that I did not talk to ex-BF. And while I love a deal, WHAT UNEMPLOYED GIRL doesn't, there's no deal that makes up for how stupid and idiotic I would have felt the next day had I gotten in touch with him. (Oh, because there would have been slurring, crying and possible vomiting). NOT CUTE. I won't give up The Griffin, but I will be running some tackle drills with my friend L so she can easily take me down the next time I try and grab her cell phone.

$1 Dollar Drink Specials + Empty Stomach x Missing ex-BF = Disaster

I Love Your Lady-Man Mustache & Letters I Never Sent

Dear Mom,
I just wanted to let you know I've gained about 10 pounds since I last saw you and I would really appreciate if you wouldn't bring it up. Yes, I know how delicious "I Can Believe It's Not Butter" spray is but no, I don't want sprayed on my tongue instead of a Christmas cookie. That's disgusting. If you could, say, also refrain from buying me a maternity top from Target this Christmas because "Oh, I just thought that was your size, I swear I didn't know." No ones buying it. Not even Dad. I'll lose the weight, I've done it before. And if you decide to ask me how or when I plan to do it, I will say, "When you stop going crazy and relatives stop dying. Then I would love to sit down with you and hear all about how good "I Can Believe It's Not Butter" spray really tastes like the real thing."

Love, Me


Dear R,
You are one of my best friends, yet I can't seem to tell you to your face that you have a serious case of MAN MUSTACHE. I thought it would be less awkward if I just wrote it here. It's not like it's a BIG BIG DEAL, it's just then whenever we're together, I can't really concentrate on anything else but... IT... staring at me. Personally, I like waxing but there's also bleaching or tweezing, too!

Love, Me


Dear Cooper (my dog),
I'm sorry I accidently kicked you last night in bed. But you ate three of my library books today so I think we're even.

Love, Me

I Love Your Lady-Man Mustache & Letters I Never Sent

Donuts are NOT a Food Group (and Other Shocking Discoveries!)

Donuts are not a food group. That's too bad. Because donuts are delicious. I learned that yesterday as I was rushing off to a meeting and I stopped at the healthiest place on earth for breakfast - 7-11. I know! That's crazy! I grabbed a donut and a bananna (a bananna cancels out the calories of a donut much like a Diet Coke cancels out the calories of a Big Mac & Fries.) Anyway, off to my meeting where I'm an hour early and my coffee (delcious, BUT zero nutritional value except for the calories I might have burned off from shaking by being over-caffeinated and powered-sugared).

Well, I can't go into my meeting like this. I'll be a rambling, shaking mess and then slump over in my chair and pass out once my sugar high crashes. I better eat something. Something healthy. Ooo, there's McDonalds. I'll just have a Happy Meal. Four piece chicken nuggets, a small fry and a toy from "Bee Movie" later, I feel full but kinda sick too.

You don't even want to know what I ate the rest of the day. YOU'LL NEVER GET IT OUT OF ME. Okay, fine... it was pasta... in some kind of rich cream sauce. THERE MIGHT HAVE BEEN A BREAD BASKET TOO! I'm so ashamed... LOOK AWAY!

What's crazy is then I blogged about "Super Sexy Good Mood Food" as if I was some kind of DIETARY KNOW-IT-ALL ANGEL when in fact, I'M A BAD, BAD DONUT EATING, FRY LOVING, PASTA GORGING, REFILL MY BREAD BASKET PLEASE diet devil.

But last night when I was starving at 3:00am, I made the most delcious turkey on whole wheat pita with yummy avacado sandwich. SCURMPTIOUS. So one good thing did come from writing the blog. I realized after, I have no groceries in the house. I have no way to eat like an angel if I grocery shop like a devil (infrequently to never). So I went to the store and loaded up on my fruits and nuts and eggs, and leafy greens. And that's a check for salmon, whole wheat pita and healthy cereals.

I guess I write this because we all have IMPERFECT DAYS. We're ladies on the go-go afterall. But we have to take care of ourselves. Last night when I made that super duper good mood sandwich, the feeling of taking care of myself felt better than any donut & fries ever make me feel. So, I'll get there, I know I will. I do have to drive by that damn donut emporium 7-11 everyday, BUT I'LL GET THERE!!!!

Donuts are NOT a Food Group (and Other Shocking Discoveries!)

Super Sexy Good Mood Food

I'm coming at you LIVE from my bed and as promised, I am going to give you guys some info on "Good Mood Food." I'm kind of shocked how big a role food plays in being bummed out. I know a lot of us want to be empowered and feel like WE CAN DO SOMETHING when we feel depressed.

AND AWAY WE GO:

•Eat a serving of high-quality protein three times a day. Higher quality protein is better absorbed and more efficiently utilized, so you will need to eat less of it. Adequate protein promotes good moods. Good examples of high-quality protein foods are seafood, poultry, lean red meat, soy, lowfat yogurt, rice with beans, rice with lentils.

•Eat cold-water fish three times a week. This is one of the best sources of omega-3, an essential fatty acid crucial to optimal brain function. Omega-3s are found in salmon, tuna, mackerel, sardines and cod. (I use a fish oil supplement when I don't think I will have three serving a week).

•Eat two eggs a week, or sprinkle lecithin granules on your cereal, salads or vegetables. These are the best sources of phospholipids, which help you metabolize fat and enhance your mood and mental performance. (Okay, I admit, I don't know what Lecithin is - but I love eggs. Hardboiled sliced on whole wheat pita toast, egg whites with spinach and a lil' Laughing Cow Cheese is to die for.)

•(COMPLEX) CARBS JUST WANT TO BE LOVED - Eat one serving of low Glycemic Index (low-GI) complex carbohydrates at every meal. Complex carbohydrates are long chains of sugar molecules strung together that are digested slowly and help prevent fluctuations in blood sugar levels that can cause depression as well as cravings for sugar and alcohol. Complex carbohydrates also help raise serotonin levels, which calm you down and lift your mood. Good examples of low-GI foods are whole grains, bran, beans, apples, cherries, dried apricots, plums and pears.

•Eat one or two servings of antioxidant fruits and vegetables with every meal. These replenish the body and brain with oxygen, giving you energy and combating illness. Antioxidant-rich foods include prunes, berries, kale, spinach, broccoli, and alfalfa sprouts. (You guys, I can't tell you how in love I am with this awesome morning shake - frozen berries, spinach (you will not even taste it), yogurt, flaxseed & whatever protein & vitamin base powder you like from your health food store - you'll be full for hours.)

•Have a heaping tablespoon of ground seeds a day. These provide you with the needed energy and essential fat to keep your body and brain churning out maximum energy. In a blender or coffee grinder, grind half flaxseeds and half sesame, sunflower, hemp and pumpkin seeds. Keep in a sealed glass jar in refrigerator, and add to your salads, sprinkle over vegetables or cereal, or have in a shake. (I love flaxseeds, so easy to sprinkle on cereal, in steel cut oatmeal or even salads.)

•VITAMIN B IS YOUR FRIEND - "The first clinical effects of insufficient vitamin B complex are mood changes, insomnia, changes in appetite, sugar craving and impaired drug metabolism. As a group, the B vitamins plays an important role both in alleviating depression and in relieving the anxiety and restlessness which often accompanies it." So make sure you have lots of Vitamin Bs in your multi-vitamin.

Alright, in a few days I'll throw in some info about why SUGAR derails our mood and other exciting stuff.

Super Sexy Good Mood Food

Fear & Loathing & Yoga Girls

If I could be anything in the world right now, I would be a yoga girl. I would sashay into a yoga studio (or maybe hurry, I think yoga girls hurry because they are a little late because their boyfriends dropped them off outside and they were busy "making out" good-bye.) Anyway, these girls are lithe and thin or maybe both those words mean the same thing, but at any rate, I want to be one of them and not me.

You know how I said I was going to do anything and everything to get out of my down-in-the-dumpers? Well, I'm starting to get to the task at hand. What are the things that make me feel good that I need to do in order to feel like the old way I felt when I felt really, really good?

I did yoga.

But yoga is for lithe and thin girls who either sashay or hurry into class. They can hold poses forever and a day, do downward dogs, hold their butts up with no big butt shame shame and NOT have the general expression of someone who looks like they are going to have a heart attack in the first ten minutes of class as I'm sure I would.

I scanned the class schedule. Flow Yoga. Ashanti Yoga. Where was the Chunky Legs & Thighs Yoga? Where was the My Ass Has Spread Faster Than a California Wildfire Yoga? Mmmm, this looks interesting. Pre-natal Yoga. That's where the pregnant ladies go. Probably not a lot of big expectations about what they can do. Probably not a lot of big butt & belly shame in there.

What if I took that class? How would anybody know? I pondered this, I wondered: Could I be that desperate and that well, ashamed of my body and ashamed of the things I think it can only do now after over 100 days in bed and I'm sure partial rigormortous has set in, that I would fake a pregnancy just so I could go to an easier pregnancy class?

Yes, I would. But then I would feel like I wasn't doing what I set out to do. Which was anything and everything and challenging myself and all that stuff I wrote in the "Hello World" entry after two glasses of sparkling Zinfandel and figuring out even a computer moron like me can open a Blogger account.

So I went. To Lithe & Thin & Unbelieveably Model Perfect Body Girl Yoga. Okay, the class wasn't really called that, I just imagined it was. That's the thing, I always imagine things so much worse than they are going to be. I am Queen B of the "psych-out." "You're going to be so embarassed at that yoga class, just stay home. In bed. Napping is your friend." But I fought back on the "psych-out" and I went and I won. Sure my face turned beet red ten minutes in. And yeah, I couldn't hold every pose the whole time. And I might have sweated like I was about to have a massive coronary. But I tuned out what I thought everyone would be thinking about me and my broke down body and I just did what I could which was what was good for me.

And I got through it. And I was freaking proud of myself which I might have not had if I went to a prenatal class and pretended my belly had a baby in it instead of the truth which it was won by a year of grief and sadness and not really moving and not doing anything and everything or challenging myself in anyway. So now when I think I can't do something and my psych-out voice comes on, I'm going to think of me, sweaty and yoga-y, in my last pose, joyfully shakin' my butt in the air, like I just don't care.

Fear & Loathing & Yoga Girls