Oh the irony!

So if you read yesterday's post, then you are well aware of my pathetic level of excitement about starting a new workout program. 

Really, I couldn't have been more excited. Which is good, because my tubby existence is facing some serious issues lately - I lose my breath just by taking a breath, lifting my arms above my shoulders is now considered grunt work (fortunately I haven't had to do much of this since boot camp), but the worst part is that my overloaded ass literally affects my ability to maintain a normal pace while walking anywhere. The only time I can manage get myself going at a decent speed is when I hear the microwave 'ding'. Okay, that's not entirely true...okay, it is. 

So after the empowering moments spent writing yesterday's blog, working myself up into a cyclone of exercise excitement, all fueled by the amazing thoughts of no longer having my underwear cut off my circulation - I got an email. 

WHAT THE F?&$!!!

Without explanation or even a shred of apology, my hard earned coin that was intended for my "Body Revolution" had been refunded. With that, my dreams of a less lumpy body shattered. 

The room got dark and things got quiet - it all got me thinking...the whole life and its hurdles business, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, and all of the other cliches that follow suit. Apparently, you are able to get in shape without this program. So, instead of forking over $80 bucks to purchase it from a reputable website, I decided to forgo my body revolution and opt for a more obtainable method - bootleg versions posted on YouTube from sources of ill repute.

So take that, life!

For what it's worth, I managed to stay within my 'target calorie range' yesterday and I didn't die...so I guess anything is possible. 

The Fat Quest

Enhorabuena! Usted es llevan pantalones! 

So my Rosetta Stone New Year's "goal" has been working out pretty well, I've completed the first unit in the program and I can now confidently walk around telling everyone what they're wearing - this is an extremely important conversation tool. Of course it makes for a very brief conversation, but at least I could walk away knowing that someone was fully aware they were wearing pants. Because who hasn't been in that situation before? 

My life's goal.

I know I have much more to learn and that the second unit will have its challenges. But I'm sure that I will soon be able to tell my cat she's terrible in a new language. *fingers crossed*

Help! I've dropped it like it's hot and I cant get up!

My new goal has also prompted me to want to do some other fabulous things this year as well; things like forcing myself to embrace the reality that everyone I work with will always be an asshole, and maybe try to stop judging people by their Facebook profile picture and the things they 'like' online, and perhaps genuinely accept the fact that some people will just never understand the difference between your and you're (this last one is probably going to be the toughest). But the one I'm striving for most is to significantly reduce the amount of fat on my ass...and my legs, and my arms, even my wrists, ankles, and ears. I'm ashamed of my 'me too' goal, but not as ashamed as I am when I attempt to button my pants.

Tubby, tubby.

I'm actually surprised that it took nearly three weeks of January to go by before I got on the fat to fit train that's been steaming through the New Year's Resolution line since the ball dropped in Times Square. I guess it's because I'm not really hoping to go to the extreme of fat to fit, I'm pretty good with just going from fat to less fat. 

Pretty close, but not me. I could
never pull this off. 

I fondly recall the days where I could slide those size 2 jeans on like they were cut just for me, the button easily snapped closed, and there was even room to spare. Now putting on jeans involves a small team of polymer engineers and at least two crane operators. The laws of physics are firmly tested and subsequently defied each time I manage to pull denim over these thighs. Once I manage to actually get them buttoned, I have to wait at least 15 minutes before attempting to breath or walk up a flight of stairs. After it all settles (by 'it' I mean all the extra skin, fat, and cellulite that adorns my body), I cover what I can with an oversized sweater and then live in an overly aggressive state of self-consciousness until I am able to get myself back into a sassy pair of sweatpants and hide within the confines of my own home until daylight strikes again.

The plan.

Okay, I don't really have one of those. The last time I lost a bunch of weight was right after I had forced a human out of my body. I wish it were that simple now...well, if I was totally wealthy and lived in Southern California, I'm sure it probably would be that simple - instead of a human, it'd be all the fat...sucked through a tube. Alas, my husband and I are both government workers who make about 11 cents an hour so it looks like I'm going to have to do it the old fashion way - by being healthy. 

I was able to score a wicked deal on the Jillian Michaels Body Revolution whilst perusing the website nomorerack.com. It's a 90 day program with workouts that run about 30 minutes. Unfortunately, my whole 'I don't have time' argument doesn't really work here...the 30 minutes I spend going back and forth to the fridge once the kids are in bed to pack my gourd full of junk that I don't need can easily be replaced with this program. I've done p90x and Insanity, both successfully I might add. But alas, if I tried either of those now, I'd most likely suffocate in a pool of my own vomit, but that's only if a heart attack didn't get to me first. Granted, these exercises don't seem any easier, it just appears that there is less time for them to try their hand at killing me than the other two. 

I don't think having abs is possible, looks like I'm in luck.

I'm excited to start the program, that is if it ever gets shipped. The downside of scoring a sweet deal is apparently waiting an eternity for it to get shipped. I ordered it over a week ago and it hasn't shipped yet, of course the other items I ordered have (like the remote control helicopter that my husband desperately needed). At least I have time to mentally prepare (or force) myself to get out of this rut (by 'rut' I mean, using my mouth as a veritable garbage disposal). 

So there you have it...me, a couple crane operators, and some jeans, all ready for an easier 'getting my pants on' routine, but more importantly, a less lumpy looking butt. Cause really...yuck. 

Aspirations, goals, and...cups

As I was scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed this morning, I noticed that someone had posted a link to a video. Generally I don't click on links, mostly because I'm too lazy to commit to watching or reading anything beyond the standard drivel that makes Facebook what it is. Nevertheless, this one caught my eye. 

                                      

It's 600 or so students and educators from the Coláiste Lurgan, an Irish Language immersion school in Connemara, singing the Anna Kendrick hit, 'Cups,' from the movie Pitch Perfect. Spoiler, this one is in Gaelic - and it's amazing. 

I think the reason it resonated so much with me is because I take my heritage pretty seriously and I embrace where my family came from. Yea, I'm an American (cue Lee Greenwood), and while I'm equally proud of that, I sometimes feel like the legacy of the Irish is acutely underrepresented or, at the very least, a little misunderstood.Regardless, I probably shouldn't read too much into the fact that most Americans don't know about the terrible things that happened in Ireland; basically because, beyond what I was taught in school, I am not up to par with what went anywhere else in the world.

To my point, which has obviously taken me a while to make - seeing these kids sing in Gaelic meant a lot to me. It's a sign that Ireland is taking the steps to regain the identity that was ripped away from them 500 years ago. I remember when I was last there, it was nice to hear the announcements on the Iarnród Éireann (Irish Rail) in both English and Irish, but seeing it become more of a 'thing' is rather uplifting. Okay, I say nice, but let's be honest, Gaelic is not always the prettiest sounding language, but it's their language.

After watching the video, I decided I needed to learn a language. Five years of spanish and two years of Italian and I can remember about three sentences (useful ones of course, such as, 'why do we swim in the beans,' and, 'did you know spiderman is my boyfriend?') So after taking a hard look at my heritage, it should come as no surprise that I chose to learn...spanish. 

While I initially thought learning Gaelic would be awesome, it would serve me little purpose in my everyday life (less a few witty phrases and the funny looks from passersby). Mandarin

seemed like a terrific option, until I remembered that I work in the hollows of state government and not at an international conglomerate. After Googling the most spoken languages within Massachusetts, my options dwindled to Spanish or Portuguese, both stellar choices. I opted for Spanish because, from what I recall, it's a great foundation language. When I did transition from Spanish to Italian, I remember it going rather smoothly. So, after some scouring, I found a great deal on the Rosetta Stone Spanish package, and so began the creation of a New Year's goal (I loathe the word resolution, I resolve to never use the word in relation to myself and my intentions. Never using it means I can never fall short after January 1st!) 

The package should be here tomorrow or Friday. What that basically means it, I'll be fluent in time for the weekend.

Adios! 

Monday Schmunday

Around 7:15 this morning, as I'm mindlessly slapping peanut butter on to a slice of bread and wondering where the hell the jelly is, Matt Lauer's gaggle of know-it-alls start talking about Blue Monday and how it's the most depressing day of the year - replete with divorce filings, shitty weather, and bad attitudes. To say I was shocked would probably classify as the understatement of the year (fortunately, the year just started, leaving plenty of time for much more galling understatements).

A whole day of shittiness??

As the gaggle droned on, I labored over every word. Okay, not really, I pretty much just listened as best I could over the wails of my sons mercilessly beating each other over which Lego guy was cooler. (For the record, the Ninjago guy with the gold sword came out on top.) Nevertheless, the takeaways from the Today Show bit was that 'Blue Monday' is the spawn of a compilation of dreadful things, such as the inherent hatred of Mondays, combined with debt (most likely stemming from the holidays or the complete failure of the American economic system, but whatever, we're not keeping score), poor weather, acceptance that your New Year's resolutions are inevitably going to fail, and a bunch of other crap that is equally depressing. 

This description of Blue Monday begs the question..."How the fuck is this any different from yesterday?"

Every major media outlet in the nation is reminding you of your neverending debt, the ceaseless barrage of winter weather, and how you seamlessly fucked up every New Year's Resolution you've ever had, all first thing on Monday morning - Blue friggin' Monday indeed. Thanks for the reminder! I pretty much had forward knowledge of what sucks in life without Matt Lauer and his team of whiz kids over at NBC rubbing it in my face. If I heard this news story yesterday, it would've been Blue Sunday. So what's with the headline?

Looks like it's about to get deep in here

According to our neuroscientist friend, Dean Burnett, over at The Guardian, "The "Blue Monday" phenomenon is based on the claim that there is an equation that takes into account numerous variables that negatively influence people's mood and calculates that the most depressing day of the year is the third Monday in January." Well, fuck, it's the first Monday - I'm calling bullshit! 

Not to be outdone by mathematical whatevers, the geniuses behind an energy drink company have trolled millions of tweets which, after serious analysis, shows today as the day full of the most depressing tweets. (No clue on what 'serious analysis' actually is). Furthermore, a web divorce service says its busiest day of the year for divorce filing is today. To be honest, I find this statistic the least bit surprising - you're lucky if you make it through the holidays in one piece, you should be proud of yourself if, after it all, your marriage is still in tact. Not only that, isn't everyone trying to shed some weight in the new year? No one ever asks what weight it is that they're trying to lose, a useless and ever-so-stinky husband perhaps, maybe your slutbag whore of a wife?

                                                                                    In the end - who cares?

Zero amounts of science have ever backed up this shitty claim. My debt will be the same tomorrow, if not more (thanks a lot interest rates). The weather is probably going to suck for a while (yay winter, hooray climate change). And I made it through most of the day without filing for divorce; that may change once I get home or maybe my husband already has, but I'm pretty sure we'll be fine. Ultimately - what the fuck ever Blue Monday. I'm more worried about Terrible Tuesday, when the Mouth returns to the office. I'm genuinely looking forward to hearing all her opinions about everything and everyone. Can't wait til Shut the Fuck up Friday!