speaking too soon?

I’ve lost almost 10 pounds since I started this bootcamp and started with the Tae Bo replacement.

I say this with trepidation, for I am not one to go on about achieving weight loss and fitness goals simply because I fear that I’m going to jinx the whole thing in doing so.

Jinxing. I feel like that about a lot of things in my life actually. Hesitant to talk about a new dude who I have a little flirtation going on with, or a new job prospect for example, because what if too much talk about it, too much expectation, too many high hopes, what if it turns out to be a big fat FAIL in my face?

I get leery to discuss new possibilities- a potential new job, relationship prospects, new things that “could” be, in general, because I have a nagging fear that in doing so, they may not come to fruition, and then what?

That sounds pretty glass-half-empty slash Debbie Downer-ish, doesn’t it? Yet I would not say that I’m a negative person, by nature. I try and see the bright side of things, look for the best in a crap situation, the silver lining, find some sort of good out of a bad thing. I’m described by my close friends as a confidant, one that people feel comfy going to for encouragement and hope. I refuse to let negativity consume me, yet I wonder whether this denying myself the right to feel excitement about something I’m interested in, is in fact a form of negativity in itself?

It’s not that I don’t feel that I’m deserving of securing that job, getting that man, achieving my goals, losing those extra 5 pounds, I do. More than anything, I guess a big part of it, and this is probably right at the root of the whole story, is that I feel that in talking about it all too much, in making others aware of what I want and hope for, if I don’t get it? Then I feel like I’ve failed.

Who likes failing?

And I know, I know that’s all very silly, and I shouldn’t give a rats ass what other people think, but I do. So I keep mum about certain things to certain people, until I feel comfortable that I’m seeing some positive progress in the direction that I’m hoping for, and then, and probably not until then, will I make any sort of peep about it.

So I’m trying to make a change with all of that. I’m gung ho for the Law of Attraction and all of that jazz; it’s always been something I have been down with- putting out good vibes into the Universe and in doing so, getting good things back at me. I try to envision the life that I would like to lead, the people I want with me for the ride, the job I’d like to wake up for every morning, the man I’d like to lie down with every night, the amazing places I wish to travel one day, and the body I want to be living this amazing life in.

From now on, I’m going to try and be more easy on myself, actually let myself feel excited about something that maybe could be, and see where that takes me.

Because what’s the worst that could happen in doing this? Say I envision myself brunching with Gerard Butler next month? I actually picture him picking me up at my pad, driving me off in his swanky wheels (or motorcycle, I’d like him to take me away on a hot Harley), us picnicing in the park, him scooping me into a big bear hug, tossing me on the bed, and telling me I’m the One he’s been waiting for. Say I actually believe that might happen (even if it dare say, might be a spec? of a stretch). And say that in the meantime I keep kicking bootcamps ass, lose a couple more pounds, meet a cute guy I think is something special, and I actually speak up about it all to my friends, to you, as it’s happening?

So what if some (or none) of it happens? What’s really so bad about that? Isn’t the whole potentially-getting-there-process fun and exciting and character building in the meantime?

I’m going to go with yes.

 

whatcha gonna do with all that junk?

what happened last monday that led me to the bag were a series of events. it started with bootcamp in that wicked hot hot humid heat, which makes for lots of sweat, and when you’re wearing one of those tank-top-built-in-bra deals that’s white, what happens is the sweat just completely soaks the whole damn thing (classy) and you can basically see everything. it’s fine if you’re just driving home in your little red corolla, which i had planned to do, but not so fine if you need to step into cvs which is what i ended up having to do instead.

so i pulled into the parking lot and thought that maybe, possibly i might find some gem of a tee shirt in my trunk. you know, something to just throw over the unfortunate look that i had going so that i could run into cvs, get my pill and call it a wrap. all i found was a big hooded sweatshirt, not sure whose, which just wasn’t going to cut it when the temps were still in the high 90’s. i scrounged around some more, then, underneath an umbrella and a bunch of old cds and my yoga mat, i found the bag.

(dundundun…)

the bag of him. for the longest time ever, the bag was actually a box with stuff of him. i transferred said stuff into a bag when i decided that the box was a- taking up too much space in my already too cluttered heart room, and b- was just too much of a reminder of him and what once was.  it was time. i didn’t (and still don’t) have it in me to chuck all the stuff, so i put it in the trunk of my car and that was that. out of sight out of mind kind of deal, or so i thought.

the thing about ex boyfriends who you break up with under reluctant terms is that you (or maybe it’s just me?) don’t ever totally feel ready to say see ya later to the stuff of him. in the bag is a random bunch of crap… a snowman ornament he gave me the first christmas we spent together. a silly ipod sock that was kind of a joke between us. a little notebook that we would leave each other notes in when he’d stay at my place and he’d have to leave for work earlier than i got out of bed. two letters from him. one from when we were still together, the other that he sent as his last ditch effort to win me back. and also three tee shirts and a bunch of movie stubs, and several pictures, including three random ones that i found of penguins (?).

now i wasn’t intending to look into the bag, not at all. no real good ever comes of such a thing; it brings up old memories of happy and sometimes rocky couplehood together, times that frankly id rather have kept in a secure place tucked under junk, locked in my trunk.

but there was really no other choice, pickin’s were damn slim, and there was no way i was turning around to go home only to get a different tee shirt and come right back when there were three tee shirts right in front of me. his tee shirts, but tee shirts none the less.

oof. i had to. i untied the target bag that was in front of me, and i’m sorry to the nice gentleman who pulled in after me (i hope he reads my blog), for what he saw must have made him quite nervous: a flustered single girl in a sweaty workout shirt, a yoga mat on the ground, a bright pink umbrella next to it, an old copy of the immaculate collection cd, and bunch of those damn penguin pictures sitting on my roof all strewn about. poor nice gent looks up to find me holding on to said tee shirt trying to decide if i should really go for it or not.

naturally, my last resort was to don the tee shirt of the ex.  i first held it up to see which one it was (some random nondescript one, good) and started to put it on, but not before sniffing it first. (shut up; don’t tell me you wouldn’t do it too.)
(it didn’t smell like him, thank sweet baby jesus or else i might have had to go in for a consoling hug with the nice innocent bystander man next to me, nervously observing this whole debacle.)

sigh.

in the end, everything worked out just fine. it was just a hell of a lot of hot hassle in order to simply make a cvs trip, and i guess, a good lesson to always pack an extra shirt… of my own.

 

an all time low, I’ve reached it

I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that I’m actually watching Denise Richards, It’s Complicated right now, or the fact that one of the scenes just seriously made me cry.

If you stop reading this blog after reading this post?  I’d totally understand.

 

I think I need to just stick with the Celtics game.  Holy hell.

 

Big weekend gone by too fast

Today was one of those perfect New England days where it’s just the right mix of warm and breezy, hardly any humidity, with a few seemingly perfectly placed puffy clouds in the sky.

One best spent outdoors if at all possible. Time to bust out the sundresses and flip flops, time to stroll around the city and soak in the sun and the Sunday, time to forget all your worries.

I did all that today.

Went off with a girlfriend and stopped by a cafe for a yummy crepe to start things off. Walked around South Boston and stopped off at the Open Market, and enjoyed some quality people watching and a yummy Italian Ice. Discussed the pros and cons and whereabouts of the best locals for bikini vs. brazilian waxes, and what constitutes a Perfect Sangria recipe.

Got home to spend some quality time with my roommate, watched a go-to movie for a guaranteed laugh, and watched 15 minutes of a pretty lame Lifetime.

Why are there such things as Mondays? And if there was always a long weekend like the one before this, would people go around having a case of the Tuesdays?

I wonder about these things.

Oh, I of course loved SATC. Being the humungo, obsessed fan that I am, how could I not? Truth be told though, the night for me was more about spending some quality Girl Time with my friends, going out for dinner and drinks beforehand,*

and remembering just how good I’ve got it. Between whacked out schedules, friends moving, graduating, planning weddings, etc., it can be tough to get our group of six together. Yet somehow, we always seem to buck up and get it done. I’m one lucky lady and there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t feel grateful for that.

Sniff sniff.

*SPOILER ALERT*

I thought the movie was good. Wonderful of course to see the whole cast on the big screen after all the hype these past four years. I thought it was all pretty predictable, as much as I loved and embraced the whole thing. I have to say I found Carrie’s breakup scene to be quite emotional, because what woman cannot relate to that whole scene? The girls going in to check on Carrie in the room, Samantha feeding Carrie especially, really got to me.

*Spoilers done.*

Sniff sniff again. This post was so not meant to be a Debbie Downer.

Anyway. I liked the movie; I’ll probably see it again this week, because that’s how I roll. The weekend was good. The weather (other than the rain showers yesterday) was damn good.

Oh, I also met a woman last night at a restaurant who wants to set me up with her son who is a hot man in uniform cop, who “works out” (at the same gym I attempt to get my ass too), and is “just looking for a ‘nice’ girl.”

Hmm, we’ll see about that. I gave her my info. But really, what dude would be all over calling a chick that his mom met out one night that she thinks would be a “great fit!?” I’m thinking not many.

Aaaaand, that’s all she wrote.

*I guess I unanonymousized myself a spec x 2 in this post. If you look closely you can see my right arm/red sweater in martini picture, and of course, those are my gams in the top picture in the grass. Wicked sneaky, I know! Shh. Keep it on the DL. I don’t want people recognizing my arm and HOH! Speaking of, new one in the house. Old school Chris Noth- who cares if he’s being put back in the rotation again; the timing is appropriate.

I revived it! But I couldn’t revive the comments made on here already… sorry about that!

 

confession

Never been a big fan of Justin Bobby, but I have to (embarrassingly) admit, something? about him tonight, was a bit attractive.*  I finally, for one quick second, saw the appeal.  Maybe it was because his nasty HOH wasn’t so unruly?  Maybe because the whole Audrina/Justin Bobby interaction was sans any out-loud burps on his part?  And he appeared to really genuinely miss her?  And I’m a sucker for bad boys?  

Thoughts? 

 

 

 

*I know, I’m totally going to hell for even thinking such a thing. 

 

coulda, shoulda, woulda’s

“As we drive along this road called life, occasionally a gal will find herself a little lost. And when that happens, I guess she has to let go of the coulda, shoulda, woulda, buckle up and just keep going.”~~Carrie, SATC

Would it bother you so much to say hello to me at work?

Could it have ever worked out with us?

Would we have slept together that night if we hadn’t been drinking?

Should I have given him another chance?

Would you try to understand me if I told you that I sometimes feel like it always has to be about you?

Could you actually ever follow through on what you say you are going to do?

Should we stop being friends that sometimes hookup?

Would you leave her for me?

Could you step outside of yourself, for a minute, and realize how hard all of that was for me?

Should I have said I love you so quickly?

Would you tell me once and for all, what you really think?

Would we ever really have been as good as I imaged that we could be?

Should I tell him what I really think about her, the next time he asks me?

Would I have gone for him, knowing how it would end?

Could you and I just get away from it all together?

Could you find it in your busy life, to make a spec more time for me?

Should I be as open as I feel like I want to be with him?

Would he still find me attractive, if I gained ten pounds?

 

what day is it?

Last weekend I wanted to make some pumpkin seeds.  I love pumpkin seeds and E.B. had posted a recipe on her blog about some really delicious sounding ones, and I was all pumped to make a batch or two.  Last weekend was really busy.  I can’t even remember what I did off hand right now; it was Halloween right?  Lately I’m having trouble remembering what plans I had the day or few days before.  Forgetting how I forgot to DVR The Office.  It slips my mind what I was even doing Thursday night, let alone a week ago. 

And I still haven’t made the damn pumpkin seeds. 

I’m tired.  Emotionally drained more than anything, but also, my body is tired.  It’s the tired you can feel deep in your bones.  I have had trouble staying focused lately.  At work, in conversations with my dearest friends.  It’s just… there’s so much on my mind, that sometimes I just can’t seem to work up the effort to force myself to just be in the moment, be present… which is where I want to be, truly.  So I have another cup of coffee, a large red bull.  I can’t shut my mind off, thinking about all that needs to get done, so I end up staying awake in bed, watching The Girl’s Next Door marathon’s on E. 

And I need to get to the gym.  I guess it’s been about a week since I’ve been, which I know isn’t terrible.  But I know myself and I know how good I feel after the gym, how much stress I just let go of by working out.  Which is why I know I need to get my booty back there.

It’s just that effort that I’m having trouble mustering up as of late.  The effort to go and pick up a few pumpkins to make those pumpkin seeds I’ve been craving for months.  The effort to remember to tape my favorite tv shows.  To lace up my sneaks at 5:30am again and get a good workout or run in.  The effort to get to bed earlier so that I can feel rested enough to not have to call a date a night at 9:30pm (on a Saturday night). 

I mean, I guess… if nothing else, thank God for daylight saving time this weekend, right?

 

secrets, or not

Seems like lately some bloggy buds have been telling secrets.  Or sharing secrets, rather.   So I figured since I need a new post up here, I’d jump on the bandwagon.

• I miss the show Newlyweds.   
• I’m an emotional eater.  I’m not one of those people who doesn’t eat when they are really stressed, or loses 10 pounds, post breakup.   If I’m overwhelmed I want pizza, beer, chips.  Or whatever’s not nailed down.
• And then I’m particularly hard on myself afterwards.  Punishing myself for a week after by eating only good foods and working out extra, not allowing any indulgences.   Which is silly. 
• I once had a crush on Hobe from Baywatch.  I met him at a mall one time; he signed a glossy photo of himself for me, and gave me a peace sign (??).   A friend of mine met him in NYC and says that he was a pretty big douchebox, and also on drugs.
• I make up words sometimes.
• Yesterday I got to work and realized I had my undies on inside out.
• I hate when people talk really loud.
• I pretend I’m more into football than I really am.  I’m in it for the excuse to drink beer and be with friends.  
• I wish I knew how to cook better.  Not just “simple” meals.
• I miss my dad lately.
• I don’t think having a friend with bennies is a bad thing.  I wouldn’t mind having one right now.
• I would much rather that someone say that they can’t get together up front, than stinging me along with the maybes and schedule checking, only to cancel last minute.
• I used the “Yes/No” machine at the gym yesterday.  And the ass buster.  I’m sore.  Holy hell am I sore.
• I have been thinking of doing a drastic hair color change, from the color my hair is now, to something more like this.
• I met Polly Shore on Spring Break.  I know that’s not really cool or something to be boasty about.   But there it is.
• I hate hate hate when people wear navy and black. 
• Sometimes I fear that I will be 40, sans hubby and kids.  Which isn’t a horrible thing, but I want that before then.
• I still sleep with a teddy bear.
• People have said that we are soulmates and will end up together one day.   I once hoped that was true, but as time has passed my feelings are changing on that.
• One day I’d like to move away.

 

I <3 Mark Paul

Today, at 7:27am, I cried during an episode of Saved by the Bell.

 I’m not sure what this really means.

 

password, what?

I haven’t utilized the password protection option before.  Blogger never used to have it (and I wished it did).  Now that I have it, I haven’t really found the need for it (go figure).

But, I got one.  A “shh” post.  Which is nothing huge and all wicked secret, but, well, if any post is good for a little protection, this one might work.

Email me at skrinkeringhearts @ gmail . com for the password if you wish.