Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Curveaceousness

In my ongoing quest to lose the No-Baby-Weight caused by the STUPID MO-FO pill, I have done the ultimate chick thing. I joined Curves Gym last night. It’s the rage that’s sweeping the nation in women’s fitness. Yes, that’s right. Can you feel the estrogen? That's right! It’s like The View meets Hans and Franz. They want to pump (clap!) you up, while being sensitive to your needs as a woman. There are locations all over the world that members may utilize, but I was particularly pleased to discover a location exactly 1.7 miles from my house. There are no mens allowed. No sweaty lunkheads hogging the equipment. Personal training is included. The vibe in there was totally unpretentious and nice. So what’s not to love? There was no hard sell, and none was required since I couldn’t see anything wrong with this arrangement. I go in Wednesday night for my first session. I’ll keep you posted on the status of my curves. And my efforts to keep them pumped (clap) the hell down.

Curves For Women
17627 Ventura Blvd. (just east of White Oak)
Encino, CA 91316
(818) 986-7212

Monday, January 30, 2006

Other Crappy Movies I Simply Have To Watch Whenever They Come On (The Patrick Swayze Edition)

1) Roadhouse. I adore this movie, 95% because of the blonde ho-bag in it. She is repulsive, yet you cannot look away from her and her slutty antics. At least I can’t. She was Anna Nicole before there was Anna Nicole. And 5% because Patrick Swayze totally busts some sweet Chuck Norris-style roundhouse kicks to the bad guys' faces. And I just love that.


2) Dirty Dancing. “Nobody puts Baby in a corner.” ‘Nuff said.


3) Ghost. In fond memory of the days when starlets vehemently denied they had boob jobs, despite the very plain and obvious proof (on film!) that they somehow very recently had fried eggs for boobies and flaunted them braless whilst tearing up over a penny climbing up a door and floating toward you in a ghostly, yet touching, fashion. [Future "duh" post: Other Crappy Movies I Simply Have To Watch Whenever They Come On (The Demi Moore Edition). On second thought, that may take up too much of my time.]



Yeah. I’m bored today.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Los Crapos

So I wish I could say we had a great trip to Rosarito, but honestly, I have to say it was just pretty good. The desired effect of spending three days chillaxin’ was definitely achieved, but at the cost of discovering the hard way that my fave place to stay down there has gone downhill. It has become dumpy. Schlumpy. Frumpy. I started visiting this particular hotel about 13 years ago, so obviously it was a place that was nice to visit and kept me coming back for more. Not so anymore. Sure, the fabulous ocean view from the room and the pool is still fabulous. Sure, it is still a place of which not a lot of energy needs to be expended and one is free to loll about and read, drink, chit-chat with others, drink, and eat. And drink. And I’m not a neat freak or germophobe by any stretch of the imadge, but a jacuzzi so murky you couldn’t see to the bottom? Lounge chairs by the pool completely covered with layers of dirt? “Authentic” food in the hotel restaurant that I wouldn’t spend $1.50 on at El Pollo Loco? Being provided with only half a roll of TP in our suite and no spare so we were forced to call down for it and then wait five minutes in MST (Mexican Standard Time) which roughly translates to FIVE HOURS to receive the TP? WTF?

Thank God for the little hidden places where I knew there would be great food. The eyes-rolling-back-in-your-head-foodgasm at these places made up for a lot of our lodgings’ shortcomings. And thank God for Oscar at the El Nido bar, who made the best margaritas I have ever tasted. And thank God for the recently-erected Big Giant Jesus atop the hill behind the hotel (a la Rio de Janeiro) that greeted us every time we left the hotel and would send Derek into yet another fit of giggles over the fact that hey, there was a Big Giant Jesus hovering above our hotel and that's just funny.

Next time, we’ll be staying somewhere else. I don’t think even Big Giant Jesus could save this place from its downward spiral.

Friday, January 20, 2006

Tic. Toc. Tic....... Toc.......

Today in Rosarito, sunny with a high of 71 degrees. Whilst I freeze my ass off here.

Why does time have to go by so slow when you're about to have a groovy long weekend? In the sun? Visions of shrimp tacos and Puerto Nuevo lobsters dancing in my head? Yeah. It's a long day.

I'm having my niece and neph over tonight. I can't wait. They're spending the night. We're going to build a fort. And make cookies. And torture Babe and Rufus by making them wear stupid outfits. Should be a good time.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Consequences Teach Better Than Concepts

Moral concepts are personal; consequences are universal.

What one culture, religion, or nation prohibits, another accepts as moral behavior.

What may be wrong in one situation or circumstance may be right in another.

Unchanging, unquestioned rules of right and wrong relieve us of thinking.

But life is not so simple.

Prisons are full of people who understood the concepts, but didn’t grasp the consequences.

~Unknown

Day Five

You guys, I know, I am in shock myself. I have made it to Day Five of The Cleanse. No food, no alcohol, no coffee, no nothing. Just large amounts of water, water, water, organic lemon juice, pure organic maple syrup and cayenne pepper. Oh, and more water. Here are my observations thus far:

1. It's not as hard as I thought it would be. I have had no major hunger pangs or moments of caving in. This has been the biggest surprise of all.

2. In the absence of food, alcohol, or even a nice cup of joe, one becomes bored easily. This boredom is remedied by looking around the house and noticing all the crap you were too lazy to do because you were cooking/chowing down/hungover/too tired. You start doing it.

3. When all that stuff is done, you start noticing the things that were an ugly beige color and really should be jazzed up with some paint. I painted the kitchen step-stool. Yes, I actually painted a step-stool, but it has sentimental value. It belonged to my grandparents, whom I dearly miss, but it was this ugly-ass barf-beige color. It is now a jazzy green color with metallic blue sponge shapes. I got really into it. I also took this stark white little table that we put our keys and junk on, and transformed it into a nice, distressed denim blue. Now it’s purty. I like that.

4. You really do have energy to do stuff once the initial detox mild headaches and blah feelings go away (for me it was two days, and again, not that bad). I hiked Runyon on Sunday and Caballero on Monday, and felt awesome the whole time.

5. There was a point in one of my hikes where I caught a whiff of something sweet in the vegetation that reminded me of Mrs. Fields chocolate chip cookies for some reason. At that moment, I would have cut off a limb in exchange for 50 of those particular cookies, an item that I don’t seek out or consume with any sort of regularity. Of course I was prepared for this from the material I had read about The Cleanse -- while you’re doing it, certain toxins will be running around and causing intense cravings of sweets or salty things or whatever you normally crave. INTENSE?! I now understand the severity of the word. This INTENSE craving lasted about 15 minutes, and I was able to talk myself through it, and it was over. Of course, I was out in the middle of freakin’ nature. There was no Mrs. Fields to be had. So I was kinda screwed anyway.

6. You really notice how many food commercials are on TV. Almost every other commercial has savory some such thing, or luscious decadent item that you absolutely must eat, IN YOUR FACE in all its glistening, buttery-looking, perfectly cooked glory. Every other commercial, I swear! Thank God for TiVo and the ability to fast-fo through that crap. It was my saving grace.

7. Your sense of smell becomes very acute. On my way to one of my hikes, I caught a whiff of someone cooking. They were making carne asada with a side of refried beans and what I thought to be a tomatillo sauce in there somewhere. I knew all this by driving past. Is this what it’s like to be a dog? They have total bionic smellers of food they never get to eat? No wonder they beg all the time. I considered banging on these people’s door and begging, but resisted the urge.

8. You can breathe better. Seriously. You can take in more oxygen because nothing is sitting around in your insides getting in the way. And that feels very satisfying.

9. Sometimes, when I just needed to be a little bit “bad”, while measuring out the maple syrup, I would lick the spoon afterward. This made me feel very dirty and sly, but I kinda liked it. Tee hee!

10. Whenever I felt the slightest bit icky or headachey in the first couple of days, I could just go to bed and it would go away. This was a fabulous excuse to get oodles of sleep that I wouldn’t ordinarily get to indulge in. And I like that, too.

11. My dogs know something is up. A couple of times, Rufus has come up and sniffed my breath like he often does (he is snoopy, he likes to know what I’ve eaten). Then he will give me this quizzical look as if to say “Bitch, what? You have total access to all this food, of which we are denied. WTF?”

12. I consider The Cleanse the lesser of two evils. It was either this, or do the Hollywood Starlet Diet of Throw-Up With a Side of Cocaine. So far this one is working for me, so I’ll keep it, thanks.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

Ms. Clean

You know how you get that feeling after the New Year of wanting to clean? I don’t necessarily mean houseclean, but really feng shui hong kong fuey your house -- cleaning old clothes out of your closet, reorganizing your filing, dumping out all your old pornos that you never watch anymore. You know -- clean. Well, I have that feeling. But I want to clean my insides.

See, I’ve been on the pill for the last six months or so. And though it evened out my female problems quite nicely as was its intended purpose, it has wreaked havoc on my body in other ways -- namely, by dumping an extra 10 lbs. or so on my person. Of course I am guessing at the number because I am scared poo-less to step on the scale for fear that it will send me downward spiraling into a Krispy Kreme bender just to numb my chub-pain. It feels like I am carrying an innertube full of Jello around my waist at all times. Try cramming that into your jeans sometime! As it is, I consumed enough nog and rum over the holidays to feed and inebriate a small country for a year. I kind of had the pounds coming to me anyway. But the pill -- blast that stupid pill! -- has effed with my hormones in such a way that I don’t feel like myself anymore. I have been off the pill for over three weeks now. I want my regular girly cycle back, problems and all. I will work them out, but those fake hormones ain’t for me.

So! I have decided to do a cleanse (hereafter referred to as "The Cleanse"). A Master Cleanse, if you will. This comes at the recommendation of a couple of friends and actually myself. I did one some years ago and had great results. You dump all the synthetic hormones from the pill that would otherwise stay hanging around rent-free in your person, and detox your bod. This gives a nice, fresh start to starting a new eating plan or whatevs. And that’s what I need right now.

Of course, in a couple of days, I may be willing to sell my soul to Paris Hilton in exchange for a nice, fat burger. I’m ready for that. But I am told that after the first couple of days, it gets really easy and you start to feel really good. I plan on doing it for nine days before we go to Rosarito. Then I will re-tox when I get there. Just kidding. But I will, in all seriousness, have to have a few margs. It’s illegal in Mexico not to, right? That is the image I will keep in my head to keep me going: mmmmmmmmmmargs and tacos......

Tonight for my big send-off before the start of The Cleanse, I’ll be making some meatloaf, homemade mac and cheese, and asparagus. After that, it’s lemon/maple/cayenne country for a long-ass time. I’ll let you know how it goes. Lord, help me.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Non-Morning Person Getting Up In The Morning and Other Awful Things

So I was supposed to get up early (horrors!!!!) and go running with Bec this morning, but she flaked as she is on deadline and pulling a lot of late nights. Whatevs. So in a fit of complete insanity, I decided to go by myself. The Thai food we had last night was most certainly loaded with MSG I am now convinced, since I woke up with one of those obnoxious MSG headaches that dry out your throat and make you feel like someone shoveled fiberglass insulation-wrapped sawdust into your cranium. It always feels better to get up and walk around rather than lie in bed and wallow in it, so this prompted my lazy non-morning-person ass out of bed to do the run on my own. It was also the guilt over consuming so damn much pineapple fried rice last night.

I got my clothes on and proceeded with the big giant dog out the door. Dudes, I am being honest when I say it was pure, unadulterated HELL. Torture. Sheer shitdom. For starters, it was like, ten zillion below zero outside (yeah, New Year’s Resolution to not exaggerate going really well, but I mean! The grass in Balboa Park was completely frosty! Where the hell are we, the Arctic???) And not only that, but my legs kept up a steady protest of the following: "Bitch, WHAT???? Are you completely and totally INSANE? What in the mother-EFF are we doing out of bed, for the love of all that is holy? Excuse me, Brain? Is that your name? Brain? Get our Leg Agent on the phone, this is total bullshit! Go ahead, we’ll wait. God! This sucks!"

But I persisted in spite of the protests and was very happy I did, because not only did it warm me up and get the blood going, and I got to witness the sheer joy of watching Rufus haul-ass completely balls-out (if he had balls) after a squirrel, but I feel super chipper-perky-bubbly-happy today. And that is a good feeling.

But we’ll just have to see about doing it again tomorrow.

Less is More

Continuing in the vein of crappy-ass movies that one has to watch, I have a confession to make. I'm turning into a Bush Bitch. Here is my story.

Recently I was paging through the cable channels on a weekend evening, drinking cocktails, being thankful for the fact that in America, it is a perfectly acceptable pastime to watch crap-TV whilst imbibing for the sole purpose of poking fun at said crap-TV. It's very relaxing. I couldn’t find Showgirls anywhere, so I was looking for other crap to watch, and saw something very intriguing called "Busty Cops". I know, it sounds awesome, right? It was, however, on the Cinemax channel, which we didn't get. I was super bummed. I imagined all sorts of taglines of badness in my head: They’re busty. They’re cops. They will bust you if you’re bad, because they are the Busty Cops. Whatever Busty Cops was, I wanted in on it. So Derek heard my cries of despair over being denied what was most certainly a gloriously crappy chunk of time wastage, and on the sly the next day, he ordered Cinemax. Though I believe he secretly wanted to know the joy that was Busty Cops as well. So we're watching Cinemax the other night over the weekend. No Busty Cops to be found, but one of those cheesy soft-core pornos was on, called "Emmanuelle In Space". This fine piece of cinematic gold was crafted circa '89 or '90, and is so bad, I can’t even find it on IMDB in order to confirm its ancient date of creation. So of course, Derek and I were ripping on the hairdos and clothes and lame plotline and stuff. After one of the 27 or so sex scenes, the guy rolls off the girl after their simultaneous fake orgasms to reveal her super-bushy crotchal area. Derek and I erupted into peals of laughter -- "Hi, Tufty!" "Oh my god, hi Brillo Crotch!" “What’s up with the Chia Pet, Pseudo-Ho?” Still giggling, I went to the bathroom and happened to examine my own special area and jumped back from myself in horror. I hadn't realized how out of control it had become. The holidays haven’t exactly afforded a lot of time to do maintenance. I felt bad for poking fun at the Skinemax actress. It's not her fault. She's not alone. But she had the jabs coming, if only for the distracting gap in her teeth.

I called up my friendly neighborhood waxer (aka my sis-in-law, who always does an outstanding job of nether-region maintenance) and told her she may need a machete for this one. Thank the Pube Gods she had a spot available this weekend. But in the meantime, I’m thinking of buzzing it into the shape of some busty cops. What do we think? Hot, right? Awwwwwyeaaaaah.

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Mom! Quit it, you're embarrassing meeeeeee!

Yeah. Some of us are super stoked the holidays are over. Rufus won't even acknowledge my presence in this shot. He is Super-Aloof-Teenage-Bad-Ass-Dog.

And behold the following, in which it appears that Babe wants to suck the very blood of the person taking the photo. Oh yeah. That would be me.

It Was The Best of Times, It Was The Worst of Times

After doing all the fun Christmas stuff at our new home for Christmas this year, we schlepped over to southern Utah to do Christmas and New Years with Derek’s family for four days. I love me some Derek’s family, so I was ready to rock. We did Christmas on New Year’s Eve morning, and I got to ring in the New Year drinking champagne and playing cards with Derek’s 101-year-old Grammy. She stayed up with us until at least 1:00 a.m.! Have I ever mentioned how much she rules? Well…. she rules. There was nowhere on earth I would rather have been. The only bummer to the whole affair was that I am violently (and I mean mafia-revenge-violently) allergic to their cat. Which is weird, because I have never been allergic to any cats, but there I was, wheezing and barely able to breathe, with nowhere to go since it was butt-cold outside. Then the real fun started when my whole head clogged up and I started sneezing every 2 seconds. I took some Benadryl and that was really special. I was still sneezy and stuffy, but now I was dopey and drowsy on top of it! Neat!

When not doing the celebratory stuff, we took in some of the sights of southern Utah, and more specifically, Zion National Park. This was also a nice break for me from the Snotfest that had become my existence throughout our stay. Anyway, I had no idea this place even existed, but I sure do now. It was absolutely stunningly beautiful, everywhere you look. Really cool plateaus and rock formations, gorgeous desert landscape, interesting wildlife. I can’t wait to go back in the spring to spend more quality time with D’s parents and check out the hiking around there.



Driving home, we had to pass through Las Vegas along with every single other person on the entire planet (New Year’s Resolution: Ease up on the exaggerating) AND deal with the rain. But all in all it was a really fun trip, and the valley welcomed us back home with open arms and rain-soaked dreams.

The next day I took down all the Christmas crap, put away presents, and swept up the pine needles. I am SO ready for 2006. Bring it on, bitches!!