sickness

sickness

These past two nights have been hellish. Every two seconds I cough and cough. It isn’t until about three or four in the morning when the coughing stops and I can sleep for thirty minutes at a time. I’ve been taking Theraflu, Alka Seltzer Cold, and Motrin and nothing seems to work. Theraflu is the only thing that seems to work best. I’m just tired of all this. I don’t want to stop working out or going about my life just because of a cold. Bleh…so corny to stop just because of a cold.

My financial situation is dire. For the past few months, I’ve been flat broke. Moving back to the states and having to pay the full rent of the apartment took a lot out of me, not to mention that I didn’t have much to begin with because I hadn’t worked all year. Slowly I’m recuperating but definitely not fast enough. I am definitely grateful that by some miracle of god I’ve been surviving. I already paid C more than half of what I owed her and I have the rest in my checking account just waiting for her. That by far was one of my biggest concerns. She just had a beautiful baby girl and I didn’t want her to stress too much about money. I know it isn’t my complete responsibility but I did owe her the security deposit, which is something she is most likely going to need soon. So now that she is all squared away I have to put back J’s security deposit. Apparently I have a thing for security deposits. The good thing about J’s security deposit is that it is totally doable in about two to three paychecks. After I’m done with him it is onwards to tackle the credit card bill. Because I’ve been flat broke having to pay back C and whatever bill popped I’ve had no cash for anything; so this past month I’ve had to live on my credit card. It sucks but I had no other option. Considering that I still have a job and some sort of “security” I’m pretty much ok with having to live on my credit card. After all, most of America (and the world) is having financial difficulties and is caring some sort of debt.


I’m managing. There are times when I just want to cry and then there are times when I’m ready to battle anything. For now it is just one day at a time.

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girls mafia?

girls mafia?

Cough, cough, cough, runny nose, and more coughing- this seems to be my existence for the past few days. I’m a germ infested human. My voice is raspy and I’m losing weight. YEAH! Don’t we all just love being sick? It is by far one of the best diets in the world.

Party for 15? Thanks. Right this way, please. Yes, we had a party of 15 last night. Fifteen women sat around a round table and ate Vietnamese food. Since it was such a large gathering, subgroups of four at a time would hold conversations. It was by far one of the most interesting dinners I have had in a long time. First, I was like one of the only four people with dark hair. The majority of the women were blonde. Second, I was one of possibly (because one I just couldn’t tell) three non-white women at the table. Third, I was more or less the only one clueless as to how the gathering was going to turn out. It seems that these women meet up about once or twice every few weeks to enjoy dinners or other events out. When I first heard about it I thought it would be so cool. It seemed to be Sex and the City in nature but what happened last night was not. It seemed more like an office dinner than anything else. I was expecting some mafiaesque type of business to go down. Although now that I’m writing about this I’m beginning to wonder if Sex and the City implanted this desire to have mafiaesque type of girls club. I certainly think it would be cool, especially consider that I’m a nonfeminist feminist (yeah I don’t even know what that means). Oh well….guess now I shall use my super cyber skills to look for these types of clubs…after all they have them for men. Why not women?

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reality tv

reality tv

Ok, ok, ok, enough is enough! I must, must protest to yet another whacked out reality show. This time Whitney from the Hills—don’t ask my why I even know—is branching off into her own reality TV show. This one is going to be called “the City.” According to the little summary I read, Whitney is moving to the city to start a new life here and start working for Ms. Diane Von F. Ok…seriously?! Do we need yet another reality show? Haven’t you beaten that concept to a pulp yet? We’ve had about four crazy ass shows on finding love on VH1; some idiotic Bromance, the Hills, and now the City on MTV (not to mention that even True Life is a bit stick-my-hand-down-my-throw-vomit worthy); Bachelors/Bachelorettes, makeover shows, and British nanny shows on ABC; hairstyling, salon-revamping, fashion clothes making, and cooking shows on Bravo. Honestly, do we need all this wasted air space? Obviously people are watching and that’s why you keep creating new, whacked out shows with idiotic concepts. How many “Life with the Kardashians” can I take?! Who the heck are they besides some fat ass girl who effed Ray J- who is like a massive nobody. Where are those brand new ideas people?! What are they paying you for? Ok…enough spewing and ranting about stupid TV shows, which have definitely deterred me away from one of the most awesome mediums of my time.

So how do I know about the stupid Hills spin-off? Well by one of the other popular mediums of my time, Facebook. I saw it on the side sponsor bar. Although FB can be time consuming, I do feel it provides the right amount of contact with people. Friends have always told me how they’ve connected from people from their elementary school and I never experienced this phenomenon until recently when I contacted someone from my junior high school and elementary school. It’s crazy how these social networking sites work but they work—maybe not as good as the real face-to-face contact of friendship but it helps when a lot of your friends are abroad.

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the body

the body

Who’s the body? I’m the body. I am Heidi Klum. At least that’s what I tell myself at the gym for motivation. I am Heidi Klum. I am Heidi Klum. I am Heidi Klum. Surprisingly enough it works. I get the energy and motivation to continue with my workouts. After watching the True Hollywood Story of Heidi Klum and hearing that soon after her pregnancy (I believe it was 2 months) she did the Victoria Secret fashion show. I was like, um, ok. I, too, can be Heidi Klum then. Where are my millions of dollars and Seal? So as you’ve gathered, I’ve become somewhat of a “gym rat” or “gym Nazi.” I try to go every day even if it is just for 30 minutes. Lately, though, I’ve been managing to spending hours. Yes, you’ve heard correctly, hours at the gym. Last night was my all-time record at three hours. Three hours at the gym actually using it and not just sitting in the steam room. I did three cardio classes back to back. First was Jab (or kickboxing), which I utterly enjoy because for some reason I always seem to find the anger from within to kick ass. Second, I did urban rebounding, which is mostly jumping on the trampoline doing cardio. Yesterday was only my second class, so I tend to go a bit slower than most in the class. I’m sorry but I’m still a bit scared of falling off the trampoline while doing various cardio exercises that are normally done on solid ground. Lastly was the interval sculpting class. I wasn’t planning on staying for the class but the urban rebounding instructor wanted people to stay because the gym was busting his chops over the attendance. I, being the nice and caring person that I am, gladly stayed on. By the end of all the classes, I had done a total of two hours and forty minutes of cardio nonstop- well…I did have the one minute water breaks between classes. But before the first class started, I had to kill off 20 minutes, so what did I do? Well I just did some strength training on my own. It was definitely an experience and I feel like I burned off all the calories I consumed that day. I feel great. Well not so much now that I’m in recovery mode. What I really, really, really would love to see is results. Sometimes I think my stomach is getting flatter and then later on I see it protruding full on. I love the way I look naked, not many complaints about it. It’s when I put clothes on that I feel sort of horrible; especially when the jeans and t-shirts I wear make me look extra big. Yeah I know I should just buy new clothes but I’ve worn the same clothes for years and had them fit just like they did the first time I bought them. I don’t know what’s happening now. For now, I am Heidi Klum!

Remember Chris? The guy I had the incident with in London? In any case, I did have moments of hysteria after that. I didn’t know what to do or if I should even think about giving him my number. Clearly this is someone who doesn’t appreciate me and I should know better by now. He’s a fun guy to hang out with but definitely not someone I want to eat brunch with. I need more than a guy to have drinks with. I want a guy to eat cheese with. So I decided that the best action to do here is no action at all. I’m worth a whole lot more than just a cheap apology that is a year overdue. I’m not his bitch or anyone else’s for that matter. I’m effing a diva who is just about to break out of her shell. I’m no longer going to settle for scrappy seconds and keep reliving my past with my exes. It’s time to move forward. If President Obama could make it to the White House, then I most certainly can have what I desire and deserve.

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what to do.

what to do.

The ex- yet another reencounter…

I’m not sure if I wrote about this or not but I once had an ex that I visited in London. He’s name was the same as my younger brother’s. His birth date fell in the middle of my eldest sister and my younger brother. He along with my mother, eldest sister, and younger brother are all Sagittarius—which means I just can’t get along with them. In any case, after the horrible incident in London, I let things between us just die out. He would occasionally send me a message via Myspace or Messenger and I would just simply ignore—until last week. Apparently his last message via Myspace was sent in December, seeing as I don’t frequent Myspace, I didn’t see it until about a week ago. So, when I saw it I was still like whatever. I gave him a one word reply to his sentences of questions. Last night, while getting ready to go to bed, I decided to check Myspace. He replied within a day of my reply about a week ago. He apologized for what occurred in London and wanted to know if I would meet him for drinks. As of yet I am undecided. Should I meet up with this guy who was the rudest to me or should I just not reply? After all I am a sucker for free drinks and a good night. He never disappointed in that area. I know for sure things won’t escalate to us dating but I’m not sure what to do. My head is telling me I’m an idiot for even giving it this much thought but my lonely little self is telling me to get back out there. I’ve held myself captive, more or less, in my apartment for lack of funds and due to my recent self-loathing. I haven’t been much for company and I’ve barely given dating a ten seconds thought. But I can’t deny the creeping, fleeting thoughts of the little lonely girl inside of me who finally wants to have something real and long term- obviously NOT with this guy. She wants someone more or less like him, minus that douche bag components. She wants someone close to her education and career level, who is ambitious, who doesn’t live with mom or relatives, who is adventurous, funny, charismatic, caring, etc. What do I tell that little girl inside when I keep pushing her and her feelings away? I’ve locked her in the dungeon long enough. The shackles I’ve placed on her are long destroyed. I won’t be able to contain her for much longer. She needs this. What do I do?

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pillows, blankets, and slippers

pillows, blankets, and slippers

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If only my desk was a giant marshmallow pillow.  I am so, so, SO exhausted! I know going to be pretty late has something to do with it but I think it’s something else. I’ve been noticing that from about 10-11 I get really tired. By the time it turns 11am, I’m rushing out of the door for fresh air. Perhaps I should just take a walk around the block. Oh gosh, if only my desk was a giant marshmallow pillow and I could sleep here without anyone saying something.

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on withdrawal

on withdrawal

As I am no longer an athletic, burgeoning teenager with loads of aspirations, I’ve decided to clean up my act. My friend asked me about a year ago what does the woman of my dreams look like, and I replied with a laundry list of things of what she looks like, what she does for a living, and how she acts. After I gave her my reply, she asked me to start acting as if I am already her. For a while I thought she was just bonkers. I was already into my negative thinking with: “Oh, I have no money for this and that.” Well, enough is enough. I’ve decided to truly “act as if.” I mean what do I have to lose? At this point in life I’m really dissatisfied with a lot of things and half the time I don’t know why I’m still here. I feel as if I have no one to challenge me. As if I have to continually challenge myself because that’s the only way I’ll truly have fun or feel like I’m here for a reason. Not many people care about what I do or don’t. They are off living their lives to the best of their abilities. Well…if I have to challenge myself and play games with myself to one up me than I think I should go for it. So…………the plan or just the challenge is to be overall healthy and to emulate the woman I want to be. So here goes my new awakening (seems like I have lot of these, right?).

Nutrition-
I miss hot dogs, burgers, pizza, burritos, Chinese food take out, candy, chocolates, etc. I’ve been weaning in good foods like wheat, fiber, and protein in my diet but very slowly. These past two days I’ve kicked it up a notch, and I’m in some serious withdrawal. I want chunk food.  To put me on the right track, I’ve called up a nutritionist and hopefully she could provide me with much needed guidance.

Home-
My ideal woman lives in a gorgeous apartment that I’ve already furnished in my head. About a few months back I found dinnerware that matches with her kitchen. This past Saturday, after much deliberation, I bought a few items from the set. Unfortunately, I don’t have her bank account yet. I’m still on my wee bee one.


So as the saying goes, easy does it.

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