DScottGRRL

After a wonderful vacation and way more delicious food than my body needed, I decided a cleanse might be a good way to start the new year.

Yeh, no.

Cleanses take discipline and maple syrup and cayenne pepper taste yucky.

I wasn’t really in a place (in my head) to commit.

Then I started thinking of other ways to cleanse my life.

Feng Shui

I actually went through this period where I swore there was “bad energy” in the house and got all the books on feng shui to “cleanse” the air.

Yeah that didn’t last too long.

What the bf and I did accomplish, however, was ridding our second bedroom of junk and finally turning it into a livable, breathable workspace.

I walk in and I smile. Before I had to keep the door shut because seeing a teeny little glimpse of the disastrous mess that lurked inside would drive my blood pressure up.

I feel 10 lbs lighter. How’s that for a cleanse?

And then I really started picking up steam. What do I really need to detox from my life.

Um, probably my shopping habits.

Stuff

I like to separate myself from “Americans” but, truthfully, I have bought (ha ha) into American consumerism in a big way.

I love stuff.

I love the act of purchasing.

It makes me feel good.

Sparks those synapses.

It’s bad bad bad.

So for the month of January, I have put myself on a shopping cleanse.

No trips to CVS for knick knacks, no shopping online, definitely no Nordstrom Rack (it’s right across the road from my work and my biggest weakness), no nothing, nada.

It’s been 7 days and I feel fine.

Lists be gone

I generally have two or three (exhaustive) lists of things I “need” to buy whether it be for a trip, for the house, beauty products, etc.

And then I would get frantic about making sure I remembered to put something on the list, where I would find time to go to all these stores to get this stuf and how I’m supposed to pay for all of it.

And to top it off, I would usually lose the lists after a day or two and have to make new ones.

What a self-imposed load off of my shoulders.

This month my goals are clear:

1. dont buy anything

2. focus on school

3. focus on my everyday work

4. focus on my freelance work

5. focus on my association work

6. re-learn how to ride a bike

Life is good once you keep it nice and simple.

I think.

I’ll let you know for real in a month.

Technorati Tags: riding a bike, master cleanse, consumerism, detox, shopping, stuff

“…There’s certain things that black people are the best at and certain things that white people are the best at. Whatever we as black people are the best at, I’m a go get that. Like, on Christmas I don’t want any food that tastes white. And when I go to purchase a house, I don’t want my credit to look black.”

- Kanye West in the new issue of Spin

Better? That’s it. I’m a go name my kid Kanye. More Kanye posts here and here.

Technorati Tags: Kanye West, quotes, Spin

Actually, I think that’s the end of my post.

The title says it all.

I’m not a superfanatic health freak, but I like to take care of myself and sweating makes me feel good.

Exercise has been a huge part of my life (off and on) for about my whole life. Ballet, swimming, tennis, step aerobics, spinning, yoga, pilates, tae bo–I’ve done it all.

The first few years after college I took a break though (yeh, work sucks) and I’m still recovering.

2007 has definitely been my best consistent exercise year since I graduated. At least four times a week for pretty much the entire year. It’s not perfect but I’m pretty proud of myself.

How did I do it?

Simple.

A single, simple, lickle phrase that keeps me in check whenever I feel like a sloth.

What Would A Fat Ass Do?

Dude, I don’t want to be a Fat Ass.

Ever.

Laziness

You know what the worst thing about Fat Asses are? (hint: not the fat)

They’re lazy.

And lazy is a cardinal sin in my book.

I guess it would be more accurate to tell myself Don’t Be A Lazy Ass but somehow it just doesn’t have the same fear-inducing impact. (Let’s Be Real)

So every morning when I wake up and I have to decide whether I’m going to work out or not, I ask myself:

What Would A Fat Ass Do?

And then I tell myself:

Dude, I Don’t Want To Be a Fat Ass.

And I get to stepping.

Everytime I’m confronted with the option of stairs or an escalator, I ask myself:

What Would A Fat Ass Do?

And then I tell myself:

Dude, Don’t Be a Fat Ass.

And I get to stepping.

Hey, it works for me.

Everytime I’m vegging on the couch and I know I have 10 million things I should be doing rather than watching soul-sucking television, I ask myself:

What Would A Fat Ass Do?

And I take a moment to think about it, I shudder at the thought, and then I get off my Fat Ass and get to stepping.

Everyone Needs A Goal

I like to know that at the end of the day, every day, I wasn’t a Fat Ass. I did stuff. I accomplished something (i.e. not being a Fat Ass).

Hey, it may not work for everyone but it works for me like a charm.

Whatever Works For You

Other people (ahem Skinny Bitch) have other ideas about what to do to stay slim and healthy.

What a crock. With a title like Skinny Bitch I sooo thought it would embrace my Don’t Be A Fat Ass philosophy.

Colour me fooled. (book review coming soon)

So, there you go, people.

I’m going home for Christmas. There’ll be tons of delicious food that I won’t have a chance to eat for, like, another year.

And while I may Eat like a Fat Ass for a weak, I won’t Do like one, and I know I’ll be OK.

Technorati Tags: fat ass, exercise, diet, skinny bitch

Beer Olympics–replete with bull horn and safety cones

That’s me participating in yesterday’s Beer Olympics and kicking ass at the tricycle race, I might add.

But, what? How can this be, you ask?

Dan, the teetotaler? Beer Olympics? Cognitive dissonance, whut?

For obvious reasons (see here) I’ve never played drinking games.

Yes, for real.

I’ve watched (quite boring), but mostly I would just kill time reading magazines while everyone else got wasted and giggled like two-year-olds.

To be honest, I really didn’t think much of it or that I may have been missing out.

Now, here’s where the Life’s Simple Truths come in:

Playing drinking games? Lot more fun than watching them.

Like, tons.

Uh-derrrr.

For the first time in my life I played Flip Cup yesterday. Fun. Giggling like a two-year-old. Sooo fun. And I wasn’t even half bad. I played with water obviously.

Oooh and tricycle racing (pictured above) For once my genetic shortcomings worked to my advantage–those short little legs of mine pedaled like no other!

Fun fun fun.

So, you know that saying: Life is not a spectator sport?

It’s for real.

Participate–my new resolution.

See more BO pics here.

Technorati Tags: beer olympics, flip cup, teetotalers

Love Bowling Just LURRRRVEEE EEET!

It’s always delightful when you find new sports which you should totally never again be caught playing because the next time you just might actually die of embarrassment.

I am a horrendously awful bowler.

Not that I didn’t know that before. Somewhere in there I was always remotely aware that bowling wasn’t “my thing.” But that didn’t mean I wasn’t up for a night of balls and pins.

Au contraire, I was all over that shit.

Forgetful Jones

I guess it had been a while–say, 9 months or so–since the last time I’d bowled. And within those 9 months I had magically forgotten:

a) how much I suck at bowling

b) how much I hate losing

c) the inevitability of my sucking and consequent losing at bowling

Not Last

I’ve written about my competitive streak before (here) but let me make it clear–it had no place in bowling last night.

Bowling for me was never about winning.

I mean, let’s be real–we all have a good enough idea of what we can humanly accomplish in life and for me, a 300 is not on that list and never will be.

No, I didn’t set out with pie-in-the-sky hopes of kicking ass at bowling last night. My goals were much more humble: not being last.

It’s one thing to suck and entirely another to suck the most out of everyone you’re with. And that was me, last night.

Urgghhhhh.

And I tried. I really really really tried. Sometimes I’d get close and get 9 pins but never the strike. In 4 consecutive games, not one, single strike. Lordie, not even a spare. NOT ONE SPARE.

I tried to think about it rationally. I’ve never sucked this bad before, I don’t think.

Wardrobe Issues

Maybe it was my outfit.

I had a really hard time figuring out what to wear last night.

Here were the factors: 50 degrees outside, nice dinner with friends… then bowling.

For the life of me I could not come up with the outfit to accommodate all three factors.

Pants

There’s the whole no heels things–can’t wear pants that are long enough to wear heels because then you’ll be tripping over them when you wear those gorgeous rental bowling shoes. And of course, the pants have to be comfortable to allow for freedom of movement. Same with shirt.

Layers

And then you have to think about layers. It’s effing cold outside but you know once you’re there and throwing strikes (ha ha) you’ll get all warmed up and feel the need to remove clothing.

Dinner

And then there’s the dinner factor. Who wants to look like a schlub going to play bowling when you’re going out to dinner with friends?

It was just a little too much for me. I couldn’t deal. Couldn’t wrap my head around it. I’m not saying it’s impossible. Just that I was unprepared for the occasion and well, that just never bodes well.

I blame the weather. I’m just not in a good wardrobe place when it comes to this whole winter thing. It was miserable. I was switching it up til the last minute and I just wasn’t happy about it.

Lesson Learned

I know myself. An unhappy outfit is a sucky bowling Dan.

Lesson learned.

Challenge: A prize to who comes up with the perfect bowling/dinner/50-degree weather outfit. I’ll be the judge

Technorati Tags: bowling, LA, winter, wardrobe issues

Ok so I don’t have my plan yet, but I will. And maybe it will be six months, maybe it will be longer. I just have to figure out something, man.

I’ve been simulating forward motion by starting my MBA and I thought that would suffice for the next 2 to 3 years it will take me to graduate.

Nope. Sorry, not cutting it.

Goals are king.

And I need some.

I don’t like to think of myself as Type A even though I know I exhibit some of the qualities from time to time. On the one hand, I’m quite busy–busier than I’ve been for over a year, so I really should just shut it and enjoy my life. Which I am. I love my life. It’s a sweet, charmed life and I’m incredibly grateful.

But I want more.

Bigger, better, faster, more.

At least something!

What’s life without goals? If you’re not working towards something you might as well just die because seriously, what is the point?

So I need something.

Maybe I just need to start writing regularly again and getting out of my head. A mind is a dangerous thing, after all. Overthink and what not.

I don’t know yet. But I’mma think about it reaaaaaallly hard. And maybe I’ll even put a thing or two into motion.

We’ll seee. There are a couple things brewing.

Technorati Tags: overthink, goals, type a, mba

You know what the perks of being in a relationship are? You know when you want a snack, but you’re too lazy to go get one, and you can’t even imagine yourself getting up to go rummage for one, and you ask your significant other, “Go find me something to eat, nuh,” and some of the times, some of the times, not all of the times–so it’s a surprise–and some of the times he does it, and that’s one less thing you have to worry about?

Like tonight.

Those are the perks.

1. non-dancers–two left feet is clearly no excuse (more on this later)
2. people who know where north is–with or without a compass
3. people who can reverse without having to think about which way to turn the wheel
4. the cold
5. indecision

I’ve heard People say numerous times that society requires of us that we face the door while in an elevator. Even when we’re riding alone.

It’s one of the things People cite as a social norm that helps make the world run a little bit smoother.

Well I guess I was put on this earth to cause a ruckus because I neeeeevvver face the door.

Everrrrrr.

If it’s crowded, I’ll face one side with my back against the wall, closest as I can be to the door.

Two reasons:

a) I don’t like people staring at the back of my head (that’s just weird. seriously)

b) If it’s crowded, I want to be the closest to the door as possible so I can make a run for it. Even if I’m the last stop.

That’s not so illogical is it?

Of course, when I’m alone in an elevator I feel compelled to walk around in concentric circles, quietly hoping to God no one gets in and catches me, but nevertheless entirely unable to control the impulse.

There is one reason for this:

I can’t stand still. Ever. For like, more than two seconds.

So does that make me a social freak or are People just wrong?

I’ll believe the latter until someone presents me with overwhelming evidence to the contrary. And when they do, I’ll just take that evidence and rationalize the shit out of it until it submits to my way of thinking.

I’m the queen of this universe.

‘Tis good to be the queen.

You ever spend your time worrying that you’re wasting your youth spending your time worrying?

(to be continued)