A royal pain in the back

I injured my back…again.  I’m actually going to listen to the doctors this time. I have done this in the past but I’m reminded that I’m out of shape and no longer under 30, requiring me to listen and heal properly.

I’m on bedrest and good gods am I bored. I’ve downloaded apps, deleted them, played memory exercise games (because I’ve diagnosed myself as pre-dementia) and am fighting the urge to buy anything and everything from Amazon.

The best app I’ve downloaded is one where I paste my picture and then try on different hairstyles. Note to self: I can rock that Miley Cyrus / Billy Idol knockoff haircut and dreadlocks are not for me.

When it’s determined that it’s safe for me to be active again, I’m joining a gym and jump starting a plan once again. This is my thousandth wake up call but I believe it is absolutely the one I needed.

What was your aha moment to inspire your weight loss?

When Pinterest dies

My Pinterest app died. Shit just got real. As in, I’ll have to put my phone down and do real shit.

I’ve truly been pretty busy today. Tackled a plumbing issue, cleaned up some mold under the sink, and then headed out for landscaping.

We have a beautiful yard at our beautiful home in our beautiful neighborhood.  Which means we have a beautiful mortgage and have to do our own landscaping.  I love to do landscaping. In May. By July, not so much. Maybe because July in Ohio means 95 degree heat with 95% humidity. Working outside for 2 minutes in that heat results in melted makeup, frizzed hair and overactive sweat glands. Not gonna lie, it’s sexy.

And we have an issue with Canada thistle that makes me drop f bombs every single time I’m outside. I really hate effin thistle. I sprayed it with Roundup last year. It laughed at me. This year, oh yes, this is the year. That thistle is going to cook alive in a chemically laden wave of death.

Signing off for now. Have to finish edging!

It’s polite to lie

I ran into someone who knows someone I know. This mutual “friend” of ours is a person whom I do not like. And so it begins. Person 1 goes on and on about what a good person MF (mutual friend , I’m aware of the MF irony) is and how MF is just so kind…yada yada yada. I’m smiling, nodding in agreement the whole time. Then Person 1 says “MF is the most beautiful,  I mean the most breathtakingly beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Wouldn’t you agree?”

I hate being put on the spot with shit like that. I’m a pretty honest person. I don’t like to bullshit, beat around the bush or stand idly by while someone speaks favorbly about a rotten person…but sometimes it has to be done. So, through clenched teeth, I nodded yes and smiled.

Then I came home and bitched to The Hubs about it. And now I’m posting on my blog about it because that’s the kind of passive aggressive action that was necessary for that conversation. For the record, MF could look like Selma Hayek and I’d still find her ugly because inside, she’s an asswad but I digress.

This week I didn’t cold cock a lady with her own cell phone.

I’m walking up to the pharmacy pick up window when some skinny minnie, bat out of hell jumps into line in front of me. She was dressed head to toe in Under Armour attire with her cell glued to her face so naturally that meant her time was more important than mine.

She rattles off her name at the counter and then continues on with her phone conversation.  The pharmacy tech is trying to get this woman’s attention and the lady waves her off with her hand. The employee finally says she can’t proceed without cell phone Sally answering her questions and Sally says “look I’m in a hurry, what do you want?” I finally say “I’m in a hurry too, someone line jumped me and didn’t get a chance to read the NO FREAKING CELL PHONE SIGNS AT THE PHARMACY COUNTER!”

Sally looks at me with a “I saw the sign but didn’t think that meant me look” and sprints off. Listen, I worked retail for awhile and now that I don’t,  I do not have to dinkle around with the cell phone Sallys of this world. And I find it quite liberating. I am proud of the restraint I showed because what Sally really deserved was me dragging her over to the salad bar and giving her a swirly, potato salad dunk tank style.

And kick 2, 3…

The hubs and I are taking an aerobics class. I am thrilled! He is not. I feel this class does 2 things: it gets us out of the house and it gives me an excuse 2 nights a week to do nothing at home – mainly because I can’t move my body afterwards.

Our instructor is the quintessential aerobics instructor. She bounces around with endless energy and catapults into the air just to do a simple foot change. She’s also very nice and doesn’t call you out for disrupting the class when you march the wrong way, etc. I really like this class. It’s so easy for me to come home, ass cheeks hit the couch and end of story.

After our first class I say to the hubs , “That was awesome!  We should take a class every night!” The hubs said “Are you on crack? We nearly died in there.” I scoffed. However, at 3am, when the dog pressed his cold snout against my face, signaling his desire to pee or chase a leaf that looked suspicious, I found myself barely able to walk. And the day after that, aye carumba (Latin for shit, everything hurts). I dropped something on the floor and tears came to my eyes at the thought of picking it up.

I did encounter muscle spasms and body cramps during class. I have issues with keeping my potassium up…another reason why I should eat vegetables. So I’m hitting the green juice pretty hard lately for a speed injection of potassium. 

That’s it for now…4 more, 3 more….

Bicycle seats

What is it with bicycle seats? At the store, they look cushy and gushy but when you get them home they’ve suddenly become filled with spikes and barbed wire.

My ass is certainly well padded to tolerate a steel beam meshed tightly into my cheeks…or so I thought. Somehow this piece of barbarism has found my gluteus boneus’s and it kills. And the post mortem wedgie that follows – aye carumba! I swear I can feel my underwear in my throat!

It’s not enough that my cheeks overlap this seat and flap in the breeze when riding along but now I’m clenching my cheeks (all 4 of them) resulting in a pained constipated look. And Lance Armstrong has been faulted for juicing in this sport? I’m willing to bet that I know right where those steroid injections went. Straight into his butt cheeks!

Signing off…with one hand and picking a wedgie with another!

Tales of a disruptive sneezer

I have allergies. I’m allergic to mold. That’s it -according to a nurse who poked me with 800 different allergens. This is why I’m confused as to why I sneeze no less than 60 times a day, every day. It’s annoying.

When I sneeze, I’m not one of those feminine sneezers. You know the kind that quietly squeak out a tiny ah-choo when they sneeze? Are you freaking kidding me with that? I’m more of a blowing papers off my desk kind of sneezer. And my sneeze always spews forth plenty of saliva. Then I follow up with the nose blowing of all nose blowing. I wake babies up, rattle glass in a window pane, stop a circus act dead in its tracks with my sneeze/kleenex follow up routine. In short, it’s a spectacle.

I’ve tried to be more ladylike but I have found that trying to harness the sneeze beast can result in burping, a coughing fit, wetting my pants or the dreaded pffft out the back end.  So when I sneeze, I make sure to get it all out via sneeze. Every few days, I get that wonderful no it isn’t boogers, my nose is peeling look. And then I have to smear Vaseline, medicated Chapstick or my cherry lip gloss on my nose to soothe the 3rd degree tissue burns.

Oh won’t it be nice when the NyQuil people make a medicine for me? Try our sniffling, sneezing, scare your neighbor nose blowing, wetting your pants, trying not to fart at work allergy medicine.


The title is self explanatory.  I love coffee. I am a certified coffee junkie. It is the only thing in this world that makes mornings, work and people in general, tolerable. I try to limit myself to 2 mugs of it a day. Considering I use a jumbo size Winnie the Pooh mug, this equates to around 6 cups.

I grew up in a coffee-less home. My mom hated coffee. I never even tasted it until I was in college.  I felt so badass drinking a forbidden beverage. I was the Marlboro Man of coffee drinking. Tough, rugged and addicted to a substance. Everything that America stands for!

As I sit here in a coffee shop, waiting for my car to get new tires, guzzling my 24 ozs of caramel saturated cooked coffee beans, with 3 shots of espresso added (it’s legal, I asked), I feel like I am in Java Nirvana. Omg that’s going to be the name of my coffee shop. Don’t anyone steal it. This blog post serves as my official tm, copyright, ownership of that name!

Any of you have a great story about your coffee passion?

I love snow and people hate me for it!

We have up to 10 inches of snow headed for us and I’m so giddy that I could tinkle! I love winter! I’d live in the Arctic if I could. However,  I’m sure the polar bear community would see a cute little chunker like me and munch me down buffet style.

I cheer every time there’s a call for snow. The hubs, my friends and co-workers find this to be annoying. I just can’t help it! It’s white purity covers up the dead grass, bare trees and black topped driveways.

On this Super Bowl weekend, while the rest of America is watching Tom Brady and his under inflated balls, I will be sitting in my window waiting for the flakes to drop!

Body Butter you can eat. But it tastes gross.

Last weekend, I finally got around to making my homemade body butter.  I pulled the recipe from a website.  The recipe had two ingredients in it – raw shea butter and olive oil.  I threw in a few drops of essential oil for a scent.  It turned out simply awful.  I’m not blaming the website because I screw up recipes often.  The Hubs could write a book on this.  I think it’s more a case of that maybe, I don’t, well perhaps, I may not, ahem, always follow directions.  Because most of the time, I think I know more than the directions.  So in defense of that website, chances are, the issue was me.

I had to find another body butter recipe because I still had 12 ounces of raw, organic, un-something-something shea butter leftover and truth be told, I’m not really sure what the hell shea butter is or what to do with it.  So I found another recipe and tried again.

The new recipe involved the shea butter, coconut oil, almond oil and my choice of essential oil for a scent.  First off, you have to make this little double boiler thingy with a sauce pan.  The author just put the ingredients directly into the saucepan but I had visions of myself starting a raw shea butter fire so I thought that I had better go the double boiler route.  The first time that I did this, I picked a bowl the same circumference of the saucepan so I couldn’t get the bowl out of the saucepan without burning my fingers so lesson learned.  Usually I don’t learn a lesson so I counted this is as a small, sweet victory.  I put a large strainer inside the saucepan and then a bowl inside the strainer – so more like, a triple boiler.  Safety first, what a concept.

I threw in the shea butter, coconut oil, then realized that my almond oil was not almond oil but apricot kernel oil.  So I substituted that for the almond oil.  After that, I then realized that the almond oil/apricot oil wasn’t supposed to go into the double boiler at all.  I’m already thinking it’s a good thing that I still have 8 more ounces of shea butter to use because I’ve obviously already screwed this batch up too.

The recipe said that if it’s cold out, just stick the bowl outside to “set” for half an hour.  So I did that.  It did not work.  I threw the bowl into the fridge for 40 minutes and that did the trick.  I started whipping as instructed and wondered how fast my beaters go on high.  Pretty darn fast, unfortunately this throws the beaters everywhere and I really don’t know how to use handheld mixers that well.  Luckily, the body butter is supposed to end up with that whipped look.  One thing that appealed to me about this recipe is that in the picture, it looks like whipped cream.  And so did my finished product.  And then I thought since all the products are indeed edible, does it taste like whipped cream?  So I scooped some up with my finger and shoved it in my mouth.  It does not taste like whipped cream.  Maybe more of a bathtub caulk taste?  Not that I’ve ever eaten bathtub caulk, at least, not intentionally.

I also added 6 drops of doTerra’s Citrus Bliss essential oil. (I later read that the author used 20 drops of oil.  Truth be told, I just noticed that when I went to post the link to the article just now.  Explains why mine still smells like shea butter.) It turned out great!  I smeared it all over myself yesterday and couldn’t wait to dip into it again today!  Also, supposedly you can use this for shaving but the last time that I used oil for shave cream, I ended up with a clogged razor and since razors aren’t cheap, I still used the clogged razor and had unevenly shaven armpits for about three weeks.

Body Butter

My finished product!

The whole point of making your own homemade body butter is to cut down on the amount of chemicals that we are putting into and onto our bodies.  There are a lot of preservatives that go into most commercial lotions.  Good health is not limited to what you are putting into your body but also what you are putting onto it.

Here is the link to the recipe that I used.  Let me know if you decided to try it or have already made your own!  And if it tasted better than mine:)