Wednesday, November 9, 2016

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

There is so much going on in my brain right now. So much that I'm having a hard time processing. I'll just dump it right here for you, faceless internet reader, and maybe you can sort it out.

I tried drinking. I tried eating candy. I tried watching comedy shows that turned into tragedy shows before my eyes. I tried sleeping. I tried coffee. I tried going outside to exercise.  And I'm just sitting here breathing.

Namastay in my house from now on.

I am a middle-aged heterosexual cis-gendered white middle-class female. As a result, very little is likely to change in my life. I'm already educated, I'm already employed, I'm already paid as much as my male colleagues, I've already had children and been subsequently sterilized. Aside from cringing every time I hear President Trump speak, my life will more than likely not change at all. In fact, people may even assume I voted for Trump...something like half of women in my demographic did (and WTF was that about, sister suffragette?).

So why do I feel so violated? It's difficult to describe this feeling. It's very much like the way I felt after being mugged. I had a lot of WTF just happened here? followed by a feeling of hollowness, as though a cavern had opened up in my chest. I felt like I needed to cross my arms over my ribs to hold my body together. I actually did that this morning. Tried to hold my body together. 

I need someone to explain Trump's appeal to me. And not in slogans and platitudes. Really, truly explain to me. I want to understand. 

America isn't a reality show. Real, actual people are going to be affected by the policies a GOP controlled legislature with Trump at the helm could enact. He is not focused, he is not measured. He is a showman, and a damn good one...but can he govern?  And if he doesn't, who will? Mike Pence? Pray-the-gay-away-prove-it-was-a-miscarriage Mike Pence?  Several supreme court Justices are very elderly and there is already one vacancy. Have we just elected the President who will overturn Roe v. Wade? Undo the legalization of gay marriage? 

Who are his advisers? Newt Gingrich? Rudy Giuliani? Chris Christie? These are your Christian paragons of virtue? All you Family Values voters...these are your moral leaders? And please don't go all "But Bill Clinton had orgies with underaged donkeys and smoked cigars made of the pussies of virgins!" because 1. Bill wasn't the candidate and 2. Pics or it didn't happen. Also 3. I have no problem with the word pussy. Pussypussypussypussypussy. I have a problem with the idea that the violation of a woman's body is a punchline and everyone seems sort of fine with that. 

I am atheist AF and I don't hide it, which in this climate means I could never hold public office, so don't tell me to run. Polls indicate Americans would rather elect rapists than atheists. And I can sure see why, with such fine, upstanding Jesus-is-my-homeboy types just clambering to fake-pray their way into office. 

My consolation is this. There's no one to blame now. The GOP has been handed the reigns. There's no more Obama to point the finger at or Hillary to vilify. It's on Trump now. 

When Obama was elected I heard a lot of people express outright that they not only wanted him to fail, they would do everything in their power to make that happen. You know what that is? That's being a shitty American. You don't hope a President fails. I can hope Trump's plans to dial social justice back to 1948 fail. That's just self preservation. I need my own credit card to purchase leggings and multi-colored conditioners for my hair. 

I think the campaign promises Trump ran on are outrageous and impractical, and I think that once he sees how government actually works he is in for a very rude awakening. America is NOT a business, and it can't be run like one. The adjustment period is going to be ugly, but I can't hope for a government to fail. I can hope for people to see reason. I can work to make sure people are informed. I can stand up for friends and strangers who are experiencing injustice. I can make good and damn sure people don't sit out the midterm elections.

I can hope...I can hope... I can hope.

But just as a public service announcement? If anyone tries to grab my pussy I'm going to cut your heart out and eat it in front of you. You dig?

Now with 100% more nasty.

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

You're Just Another Brick and I'm a Sledgehammer.

As I age, I'm realizing more and more that I'm a sledgehammer. Some women are warm and giving, natural nurturers, the type of person you want to be your mom or grandma. That's not me. Some women are iron fists in velvet gloves, they keep order and rule the roost but with a soft touch that lets you think everything was your idea. That's not me either. Some women use their wiles to wheedle and cajole, hiding cunning minds behind smiles and fluttered eyelashes. That couldn't be me if I wanted it to be.

It's time to take down a wall.

I am a sledgehammer. I'm cold and hard with blunt edges made for laying waste. When I want something, I get sheer force of will and application of brute strength. I can't pick a lock, but I can sure as hell break down a door.

Where am I going with this? Brace yourself, I'm going to get all feminist for a bit. I try to keep my politics off social media, because Facebook is for pictures of kids and dogs and races. I realize that my brand of godless liberalism doesn't jibe with most people's positions and I don't feel like fighting about it in a forum that just creates bad blood and (let's be honest) changes no minds. 

Now, Bernie Sanders was my horse in this race from the announcement of his candidacy. Why? Because his brand of democratic socialism aligns nearly 100% with my own ideals. That's a good reason to vote for a candidate. Second on my list was Hillary Clinton. There's a few minor policy points that I lean farther left on, but nothing that would keep me from voting for her with a clear conscience. 

So why don't people like Clinton? I'll tell you what I think: She's a woman.  Yeah, she's got some scandals (or perceived scandals) in her past. Show me a politician who doesn't. The difference is, she's got two X chromosomes and she's seeking power and people can't stand it. Women aren't supposed to be ambitious. We aren't supposed to want power. We're supposed to be good little girls, quiet and biddable, smiling in the corner while the men do the "real" work.

Sexism is everywhere. It is sometimes subtle, but it's there. 

Ever been told you'd be prettier if you smiled? No? Then you're probably a dude.
I'll smile when I fucking feel like it and only when I feel like it.

Ever been catcalled on the street, then had the guy go full "Fuck you, bitch, you're fat anyway!" when you don't engage? No? Then you're probably a dude.
I am not your goddamn ornament, asshole, and your approval is neither required nor desired.

Ever been told you're too loud, or that your personality is abrasive? No? Then you're probably a dude.
I'll raise my voice to be heard, and I don't need to be your friend to get shit done.

Ever been in a group of people when a concept is introduced, then had a male co-worker lean over and start man-splaining it to you? No? Then you're probably a dude.
I wrote the presentation, asshole.

Along with that, ever presented an idea at a meeting, had it be dismissed or ignored, then had a male co-worker say the exact same goddamn thing and be acknowledged? No? Then you're probably a dude.
And you bet your ass I say (LOUDLY) "I JUST SAID THAT."

This kind of thing is what's been happening to HRC from the beginning of this campaign. We get snide comments about her suits (stop calling them "pants suits", goddammit, no one calls a man's suit a "pants suit"). We get commentary about her voice (She's loud! She's shrill!). We get nasty remarks about the way she laughs (She sounds like a hyena!). We get the classic "She should smile more" but when she does? "Oh, she looks smug.

Men are "assertive", women are "agressive". Men are "direct", women are "abrasive". Men are "strong leaders", women are "bitchy". Men are "stern" and women need to smile more. 

If you want I'll bare my teeth at you.

This is a person who is possibly the most qualified candidate for President in recent memory, if not ever. She is educated, she is articulate, she is experienced. I say if she wants to be stone faced, let her. If she's smug on the debate stage, she has a right to be. Personally, I'm impressed as fuck that she didn't start laughing her goddamn hyena laugh mid-debate with that word-salad spewing, self-aggrandizing, lying, cheating, swaggering blowhard. It is an insult that she is forced to compete with him at all. 

I recall very distinctly the first time I heard "A woman could never be President, could you imagine her with her finger on the button every 28 days?!? Yuck yuck yuck, hardee har har". I was 1984, when Geraldine Ferraro was Mondale's running mate. It was infuriating then, and it's infuriating now...particularly coming out of the mouths of women who back Trump. Well guess what, people. That pretty much makes a post-menopausal woman the ideal candidate for President. None of those pesky hormones getting in the way of good government. 

We've been trying to poke holes in the patriarchy for decades. Women like our own Tammy Baldwin and Tammy Duckworth and Elizabeth Warren made it into government and made some noise. Women like Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Sandra Day O'Connor and Sandra Sotomayor made inroads. But poking holes isn't getting us far enough. It isn't getting us equal pay, paid maternity leave, quality affordable childcare, and access to health care without the government dictating what that means. We've had 200+ years of men running this bitch, and for some reason now that everything is (apparently) a giant shitshow we've decided that the way to fix it is to put another man into office. 

It's time to get out the motherfucking sledgehammer and lay waste. And the sledgehammer in me recognizes the sledgehammer in HRC. I want a strong, competent woman to go out there and fucking govern. It is time. Screw cookie baking contests. Rise up with your RBF, slap on those sunglasses, and let's ride. 

If you're a Libertarian, I think you can vote for Gary Johnson in good conscience. Go for it. If you're a disgruntled Bernie supporter, please don't fuck us all by protest voting. Please. If you're a Republican and you can vote for Trump...well, I won't pretend to understand, because he isn't a Republican any more than I am. And if you can't bring yourself to vote for any of them? That is your right, but at lease go to the polls and write in Micky Mouse if you have to...but go vote the down ticket races. That is where shit gets done.

I felt the Bern. I did. But come November? #imwithher and I won't apologize for it. 

Thursday, September 15, 2016

I Played Dress Up and It Was Awesome or "Front Door Fashion is my BFF and StitchFix Can Suck It"

So I've been getting boxes from StitchFix for a while now. I've gotten some awesome jeans, a couple of cute tops and camisoles, a maxi skirt or two, and lately? A large number of total head scratchers. Clothes that don't remotely fit, or make me look like a box, or fit like a bag, or get stuck on my shoulders. Also, with StitchFix you're getting unrelated pieces, not cohesive looks.

Newsflash, I can't dress myself. I mean, I can dress myself for the gym and I can throw a pair of black scrubs together like a boss, but regular clothes? Yeah. Forget it. Jeans and a t-shirt all the way.

Which makes my deep love of high heeled shoes hard to justify. When you're always in jeans and a hoodie, there's not a lot of call for knee high boots.

I still buy the's just harder to find a reason to wear them besides walking around the house being the very tallest person here! You all look like ants HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! 

So about a month ago, at 3am, I stumbled upon Front Door Fashion. Historically, every idea I've ever had at 3am has been a super-fantastic one, so I dove in. This is a Dallas based company that assembles full looks including accessories and ships them to your door. The idea is that instead of getting a shirt, or a pair of pants that you like but have no idea how to get entire outfits that you can mix and match, along with instructions on how to do that. Style cards, shoe suggestions for each look, and notes from the sylist about how to make it work for your body type.

It's the size of a suitcase. Signature required because there 
is $1000 worth of clothes and shit in there.

The profile you fill out is pretty lengthy, and you're encouraged to leave detailed notes for the stylist...and boy did I ever. My overly-long-but-not-skinny legs, my freakishly long arms, my easily-stuck-in-tailored-clothes shoulders...right down to "Hey, my hair is super-hero blue! Don't send me blue shirts!!" 

You're also asked specific questions about what sizes you take and how different garments fit you. I gave exhaustive detail. To the point that I was worried the stylist was going to think I was unbalanced. But if I was gonna do this, I was gonna do it right. 

Since this is a full styling service, it takes a few weeks to get your stuff. It was about 3 weeks for me. The delivery is signature required, which is kind of a pain, but I get why. This is a huge box with a LOT of stuff in it. A thief would be very well dressed indeed. 

So what was in the box? OMG so much awesome! I feel a little guilty that I didn't do my hair and put on make-up to play dress up with this stuff. Please excuse my plain face and hospital hair...I have to work tonight.


Everything was in a garment bag, labeled and named to correspond with the stylists notes and the style cards included. There's also a packing slip with everything itemized by outfit. You have 5 business days from receipt of the box to decide what you want. A return label is just slap it back on the original box.

Look at all this stuff! 

I'm too lazy to go look now, but the total number of items was staggering. Earrings, necklaces, belts, shirts, pants, camisoles, scarves, jackets, jeans, etc. A ton of shit. It was all beautiful stuff, too. Nice colors, nice fabrics. The stylist even referenced my love of high boots in the style notes...she built two outfits around my boots!!!  YAAASSS QUEEEEENNNN.

The first outfit was coated leggings in a dark wine color. Kind of a leather look, which I found alarming at first, but holy shit they looked awesome and are so comfortable!!! It also included a long camisole, an asymmetrical hem knit shirt (with thumb holes! eeeeeee!) and a scarf. Honestly, I thought it looked pretty good (if a little basic white bitch), but even if I don't keep the scarf and the long t-shirt I'm keeping the damn leggings. Susan? Leggings are totally pants and now I have proof. I love the sort of loose-fitting-over-tight-fitting look on other people, but it always makes me feel...large. Maybe because I'm so tall? I'm always afraid I look like a barge. 

I felt almost fashionable.

The second outfit had a camisole, two different shirts, and a pair of distressed straight legged jeans (and a couple of necklaces and some earrings). The plaid is actually something I would wear...I love plaid shirts, and the camisole was awesome. These jeans are not at all stretchy, so getting them over my booty was a challenge, but they fit fine once I cleared that hurdle. I never know how to feel about the peek-a-boo shoulder type shirt, but I didn't hate this one.

This box was worth it for the goddamn camisoles.

The next outfit included a pair of trouser jeans. These were never really my bag, but I'm open. They were really comfy, just a little bit of stretch, and long enough to wear high heels (thanks, stylist!). I like the flannel shirt, it is soft and fit nicely. I'd probably put a t-shirt of camisole under it. The belt was great, and I needed a brown belt. Not a fan of the earrings (also, I wasn't going to try on earrings...seems icky). The alternate shirt was this loose red cross neck. A leftover from my many varied stints as a fat girl is that loose clothes make me feel big. I didn't hate this top, for all that it was loose and blouse-y, I'll need to consider it again in the next day or two. It's a good color for me at any rate.

It's maybe a little 1970s, but am I.

The next outfit was skinny jeans (which I don't need, but boy were these nice), and a couple of tanks. There was also this jacket which was weird as hell, but I kind of liked it. Sadly, it didn't fit. The sleeves wouldn't come up over the head of my shoulder, and when I bent my arm they were uncomfortably tight over my biceps. I'd never be able to get a shirt under this, and I don't think sizing it up would help...the sleeves were a bit short. This outfit came with an awesome necklace, though.

The black tank says "Save water, drink champagne"

So, yeah. That was Front Door Fashion: Take One. I was impressed. The stylist actually read my notes and everything aside from the jacket fit really well. Pants were all the perfect length, nothing too small or too big, everything comfortable and cute. Patterns that weren't totally off the wall, and even my shitty fashion eye could see many different combinations among the assembled outfits. It's going to be hard to decide what to keep...and my last few StitchFixes have all been "HAHAHAHAHA NO" and back in the mail the same day. 

This is pricier than StitchFix, and if you already have a decent wardrobe you may not need this kind of thing. My wardrobe is non-existent. Seriously...sad as fuck. I need jeans like I need another hole in my head, but a couple of these pairs may stay. And the leggings...sweet baby dolphins I loved those things. I can't believe it...I kind of shopped, and it was fun. Mostly because it didn't involve other people or dressing rooms and I didn't have to comb my hair.

Also today arrived my new swim suit from Savage Swim. It's my goal to wear it proudly in Hawai'i. I tried it on, and it is cute-ish if somewhat intimidating in white. You won't see a picture of it on me here, I have 30 days to make it look as good as possible...then all winter to build up a booty worthy of white bikini bottoms for next summer. 

So. Cute. And Scary.

That's all I got. Just pictures of clothes I got in the mail. Sorry not sorry.

Thursday, August 25, 2016

The Capacity of the Human Stomach is 1 to 4 Liters, or "Congratulations, It's a Tapeworm!"

I haven't eaten like this since I was pregnant.

But I got sterilized 6 years ago and had my uterus burned for good measure, so this baby factory is not only's fucking condemned. I burned that shit down. 

So I have no idea why I've been basically a walking stomach for the last few days. There is not enough food in a 50 mile radius to fill the gaping cavern that is my guts.

My food baby. What shall I name it? Harrison? Gerald? Beauregard?

Don't worry, there won't be a birth announcement.

I consumed all of this before 0500:

Salmon, rice, asparagus, berries, yogurt, chia seeds, carrots, peppers, hummus, grapes, 
string cheese, hummus, and a meal replacement bar.

 I did not go to the cafeteria at 0630 because I knew if I ate then I'd only have to eat again before going to CrossFit. A co-worker brought in doughnuts for the students. I love donuts. Donuts are magical.

I did not eat a donut. I didn't even sniff them.
Would've been hungry 45 seconds later anyway.

Came home and made this instead:

Mushrooms and spinach in 2 eggs fried in bacon fat and Ezekiel toast
with a fuckton o' butter.

Went to the 915 with fantastic husband where I broke a personal rule and did snatches up to 85#. Normally I won't go over 65# on my first day off (I have taken several barbells to the head), but it actually felt pretty good today. I complained about the music and coach told me if my next 3 snatches were pretty we could listen to whatever I wanted. They were pretty, so we listened to old school rap. Fuck. Yes. 

I failed the 85# snatch a couple of times, but it's my current 1 rep and the fact that I attempted it at all was a bit of a victory today.

Hungry does not begin to describe what I was after a WOD of front squats and toes to bar followed by 50 GHDs. I was actually seeing spots by the time we were on the way home. That's in part due to fatigue, so when we got home I did the only rational thing...grabbed a red pepper and crawled into bed to eat it.

Hey, it doesn't leave crumbs.

I took a nap for a couple hours and got up to change for yoga...but that didn't happen. I did something to my left wrist during front squats and I can't put my full weight on it, which means no downward dog or planks. I don't think it's injured, just a little tweaked. Whatever it is it better figure something out, because if I can't make the 515 tomorrow I'm gonna be peevish.

So when I woke up I was hungry. Not peckish...hungry. So I poured myself a cold brew and I ate.

It wasn't enough.

And then I ate some more.

This container was full.

Then it was 4pm and I was desperate for food again. Fantastic husband made kielbasa and sweet potato fries. I stuffed myself full of sausage.


That was about 90 minutes ago. I'm hungry again. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.  I prepped some chia pudding for the fridge. It does me no good tonight, but tomorrow I'll be set. Although this is calorie dense but not much volume for a serving. Possibly shooting myself in the foot here.

Poured into mason jars and DONE.

This is what I ate today in checkboxes. I might have missed some. Also I drank close to 5L of water today.


My future career as a linebacker is assured.

Oh! Exciting news! StitchFix does exchanges now! I requested a swap of the size 8 jeans I originally got for a pair of 6s. They came today (supafast!), and they're just right. They even fit over my food baby. I'd like you to note that my hair, shirt, and jeans are all the same color. I didn't choose the monochromatic life, the monochromatic life chose me.

I hear monochromatic outfits make you look taller, and so do 4.5" heels.
By that logic I am close to 8 feet tall in this photo.

Since it's my first day off I'll be sleeping like a corpse in pretty short order, which is a blessing, because there's nothing left to eat in this house except the furniture and maybe like a box of baking soda.  

This has to stop at some point, right? It's madness. 

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Food is Life or "Whaddya Got, a Hollow Leg?"

Holy shit I'm hungry today. I packed a super huge lunch last night. That's 8oz of salmon, half a cup of rice and 1.5 cups of roasted broccoli in that box. I snarfed it down in record time and then mashed that Wellabar (which is the big one, the one I usually split in half) into my face immediately afterwards. I drank 4L of water during my shift (yeah peeing!) and after annihilating the veggies and hummus and cheese and yogurt and fruit and seeds I was still growly when 0600 rolled around.

I see your troooooooo coooloooooorrrrs.

The bacon in the cafeteria was fucking perfect this morning. So I filled a box with it. I ate a boxfull of bacon. So. Not. #nhapproved. 


The smalls went to daycare, the dog went to Fun Camp and I went to sleep. I even had a midnight snack if you count the red pepper and hummus I woke up and ate like I'd never eaten before and might never eat again.

Then I went back to sleep. I threw in a load of laundry first...I should get some credit for that, yeah?

I picked up the spawn and headed to CF with them for the kids class. I opted not to do 50 thrusters today. Anything overhead during my on week is questionable. I've dropped barbells on my head in the past. It ain't fun. Plus my thrusters are marginal when I'm rested, they could be potentially disastrous when my clock is flipped.

By the time we were on the way home I was rapidly approaching hangry. I made the kids some quesadillas and ate a huge bowl of last night's leftovers.

This is like 3-3.5 cups of steak and veg.

Under an hour later, while doing my laughably light 5x5? I had this "Oh shit, I'm hungry again" moment.

It's so cute with the widdle baby plates.

I finished up and hustled upstairs to make myself a coffee/protein shake.  


So remember yesterday when I mentioned the thigh bashing? Here's a photo immediately after that WOD and 24 hours later. These should be super pretty over the next few days. I'll get to have one of my favorite conversations over and over whenever I leave the house.

Random Stranger: So, uh, how'd you get those bruises...they look painful.
Me: They're from cleaning.
RS: Cleaning?
Me: Yeah. *blank stare*

Bonus points if fantastic husband is with me as he is a large, physically imposing individual. 

I CrossFit because it makes my legs so sexy. 

Now that the night has gotten away from me it's time to shower and make my lunch. And probably eat again because holy shit so hungry. Almost time for seven days off, bitches!!! 

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

I Didn't Need Those Thighs for Anything or "Bruises are Just Free Tattoos"

So true, I'm becoming an expert in not overthinking and my life is sooooo much happier for it!
Bullshit. I can control everything. Watch me.

If I have one pet peeve about my job, it's that it relies so heavily on a chain of people doing their job first. Some of that chain is eliminated by the fact that I often work alone or with only one other person, so once something crosses my desk I have essentially complete control over what happens from that point. I like control. Here is a song for you to enjoy. I'm currently obsessed with this artist.

Halsey - control:
Halsey "Control" 

Last night I got to beat my head against the desk after two different units jumped down my throat because they didn't have something they needed instantaneously. Now, I'm am fucking great at my job. I would lay money I have the fastest fucking turnaround in the system. I never let stuff sit. I anticipate. I interpret. And when shit goes down? I am in control. 

Except that sometimes I need a crucial piece of information to do my job. Like a weight. I literally can't send you an antibiotic with a weight based dose without a weight. And yelling at me doesn't tell me how much the patient weighs. You can insert a primal scream here. I might have actually screamed into a jacket last night. Maybe.

At any rate, it was an active and hectic night. That means my dinner was delayed significantly, and once I started eating I couldn't stop.  I'm a stress eater, what can I say. I could rule the fucking world if you gave me a 5# bag of peanut M&Ms.  Luckily I packed a huge lunch.

Which I ate all in basically one sitting. One long sitting, but still.

In addition I had eggs and bacon from the cafeteria when it opened at 0630. The bacon was disappointing. No snap. I like my bacon to melt in my mouth. Floppy bacon is not okay. 

So when I came home I vented my frustration at fantastic husband, who was sympathetic. He's great at listening to me rant. It helps that since he works rescue he actually gets what I'm talking about. He's a good code debriefer, too. I try to return the favor whenever I can. This is one of my favorite things about our relationship...I can come home and shout at him for 20 minutes and he just says "Do you feel better?" and I do. I do feel better. 

Then I went to sleep. Like I do. I slept pretty well and fairly long, so I decided to brave the 415 WOD at the box. I snarfed down a red pepper and a Wellabar before heading out (use your imagination).

Today we practiced cycling cleans from hang position. 7 reps every 90 seconds for 7 rounds, adding weight each round. This is essentially bashing the bar against your thighs, then collarbones, then thighs, then collarbones over and over with increasingly heavy weight.  By the 7th round I was basically at "Ow...ow...OW...ow...OMFGOW" I don't see bruises on my collarbones yet (maybe my elbows were fast enough today?!?) but the ones on my thighs are already surfacing. I'm pretty much going to look like someone hit me with an aluminum bat. Which, if you think about it, is basically what happened. 

Then we did the WOD. I forgot my water bottle, so I drank the iced coffee I had in the car. Word of advice? Don't drink Deathwish as your hydration during a workout. I felt as though my heart was going to explode.

Have you heard the good news about our lord and savior, Cold Brew Deathwish?

After the WOD I hustled home because fantastic husband said those two little words that drive all the ladies wild. "Steak tacos" I had some corn chips with my pile of steak, black beans, grilled peppers, tomatoes, cheese, and sour cream. You might ask "What? No guac?" but I didn't have to make this so I ain't complaining, you dig? 

Window of gains, brah.

So to recap, I worked...I slept...I lifted weights...I came home to a hot meal...and now I'm sitting on my ass watching Wheel of Fortune. Is this what it was like to be a dude in the 1950s? Because if it is, I totally get why men resisted feminism. All I need is a cocktail and a hot secretary to bang. I would've been a shit housewife...though if I'm honest I probably would've ended up a spinster because who the fuck would want to be saddled with this raging pyre of crazy? (I love you, baby, please don't ever leave me.)

Also I'm eating some grapes. Great batch at Costco this week. Crunchy as fuck.

I like a snappy grape, don't you?

I ate so much today. Seriously. Enough to feed a small army. A really small army. Like, an army made up of three small soldiers.  But it was all actual food, and heavy on the veg and protein, so I don't feel bad about it. There was a small amount of shock when I checked the boxes and was like...uhhhhh.

Oh shit. I forgot a protein. Oops.

Two more shifts. Tomorrow the kids are at daycare and the dog is at Fun Camp, so once I'm home I get a wall of silence for about 8 hours. Then it's off to CF kids and maybe a workout for me if I'm feeling ambitious. If not I'll 5x5 it at home...or maybe both. Guess it depends on when I wake up. 

Next Thursday is the first day of school. I can't wait. The kids are so excited and I am jacked to have my day back. Mid-day yoga? Running? Morning workouts? I can't wait to do it aaaaalllllll without three little stomachs in tow.

Did you know you have to feed kids like 5 times a day? It's exhausting.

My birthday is in 8 days. I will except any and all gifts of food.

Monday, August 22, 2016

Merrily Down the Road or "Go Home, StitchFix, You're Drunk"

Last night was long. Tonight at midnight we officially roll out a new process...which could make tonight even longer. Good thing I ate everything that was not nailed down today. Banging your head on a desk takes a lot of energy and fortitude.

Maybe it won't be so bad. I mean, I just need to rely on other people to do their part of the process and my part will be a piece of proverbial cake. What could possibly go wrong? 

No, it's cool. I'm cool.

Let's start at the beginning. Here's my super-awesome lunch bag packed with all the foodz. Including the carrots I somehow lost yesterday.

The carrots are in the bag, hiding.

I drank 4L of water at work last night. No coffee. I felt it was unwise after putting down two big cups of cold brew Deathwish earlier. FOUR LITERS. I froze my ass off all night, even though I didn't put any ice in the water.

2 of these canteensful is 4L. My pee? It is clear.

Even though I had dinner and three, count them THREE snacks I was still ravenous at 0600. I basically pawed the ground and snorted while waiting for the cafeteria to open. When the cashier said with a slight moan in her voice "Ooohhh, my coffee is working" I was slightly grossed out, but that didn't stop me from cramming bacon into my face pretty much immediately after paying. I'm surprised I made it to the cash register.


Since yesterday wasn't a great sleeping day, I was stupid tired when I got home this morning. I fell into bed and after watching about 8 minutes of Jon Oliver I was off to dreamland. For Eight. Solid. Hours. I woke up too late to go to 415 at the box, so I just headed downstairs for a little 5x5 action. After a cup of Deathwish, of course.

Yeah. That's a 55# squat. Light, but helpful for mobility. 

At first I was peevish about how low the weight is, but it goes up by 5# each workout so it won't be light for long. Bonus is I have more time to focus on my foot position and getting low in the squat. I'm not going to rush this. That gets me nowhere. Today's workout also included benching and barbell rows. 

Benching in my jammies FTW.

Got my new container of chocolate malt whey powder today, so I found the scoop (always an adventure) and treated myself to a chocolate coffee shake.

Which is totally legit supplementation and not at all dessert.

Along with my protein powder, a StitchFix box showed up today. It was full of weirdness. One pair of jeans which fit initially, but are stretchy. This means they will absolutely NOT fit after about 30 minutes of wear. Shame, because the length was great for heels.  There was also this sleeveless turtleneck sweater. I have never understood the sleeveless turtleneck. Am I warm? Am I cold? What season is this for? Also the length and fit on this was weird as slits on the side? Who does this fit?


Every stylist at StitchFix also seems to think I really need a nautical striped sweater. I seriously get one like every other box and I've sent every damn one of them back. I mean, it's okay? But it's just so...ordinary. This is my problem with clothes shopping. I don't know what I want, but it's not anything that exists, apparently. There clearly is nothing between overly embellished and stupidly flashy and "boxy nautical sweater". 

I mean really.

But at least I got this weird scarf thing? Which is red and polka-dotty. I have no objection to that, really, but it's not's just a length of cotton fabric sewn together. What is it for? 

Is it supposed to be warm? WAIT! IS IT FOR A SANDSTORM?
It's totally for a sandstorm.

Perhaps the most perplexing thing in the box was this shirt. It's got a built in tank that is some sort of sateen material and is too short. The shirt itself is a slightly transparent crepe with a gathered neckline. I got stuck in it when I put it on and it would not lay correctly over my shoulders. I tugged it every which way. Awful.


Then I got stuck in it when I tried to take it off. Thank the FSM I was alone, because there was some serious flailing and cursing. I considered just ripping it in half, but then I would've had to pay for it. Remind me to tell the fine people at StitchFix that if it's something I have to put on over my head it needs to be stretchy or have buttons I can undo. This is like the third time I've gotten stuck in something. 

Oh wait. I DID tell them that. TWICE.

So it all goes back. Again. I may order the jeans from Zappos in a smaller size, because I really do like them, but I know after a few hours I'll just be hiking them up and bemoaning the sagging ass of it all.

I'm still gonna use StitchFix, because if nothing else it's good for a laugh, and about every third month I get a box of super cool shit. I should probably pay attention to the stylist's name on the ones I like. Details, details.

Now it's dinner/breakfast time. Eggs with spinach and mushrooms and some fruit. All my boxes are checked for today, motherfuckers. White bikini, here I come. 

So hungry. 

I should probably shower at some point.  More details.