Thursday, April 4, 2013

Cause tonight will be awesome.


*Preface* If you're familiar with "FRIENDS", you're well aware that Chandler Bing (THE most amazing TV character to have ever been created, your argument is invalid.) uses humor when things get uncomfortable. Weeeell...this is how this blog is gonna go. I'm gonna attempt to make this less awkward for you by making stupid jokes about things I shouldn't joke about. You're welcome.

Let's be honest, I'm not passionate about much. It took the better part of my life to find something I truly love. The only thing I can say I'm truly passionate about is music. Music is my biggest passion. Not in the "I have musical talent" kind of way. Cause, HA! No. -  But in a "I love it more than life itself and I love the people who create it and the people who love it just as much." kind of way. It's my life. Not to get all Emo cause I know it makes y'all uncomfortable but music, it makes my life. It gets me through every single day. Whether I'm listening to my ipod or listening to the radio hoping and praying I don't hear a Black Eyed Peas song (SERIOUSLY, What. The. Hell. is that even?), it's part of my every day.

Judging by the title up there, you probably think I'm going to a concert, tonight. Right? Well, you're wrong! And you haven't been paying attention to my Tweets/FB status things. Shame on you young grasshopper...s. - But it's OK. I forgive you. Sort of. Learn to pay attention, though. It makes life easier. And I won't feel like you're ignoring me. You don't wanna do that. Trust me.

Anyway, I digress. Tonight, my lovelies, I am going to a book signing. Jenny Lawson's book signing, to be exact. I'm stoked. And scared. Stoked, cause it's my first one. She's taking my book signing virginity. But, the fear? It didn't set in until she tweeted that some people hadn't been able to get into her signing a couple nights ago cause the place filled up. Now, not that I didn't think she could fill up a place cause, dude...she's fucking Jenny Lawson! But I tend to underestimate the size of the places in which events take place. In my mind, Barnes and Noble is big enough to fit the entire city of Phoenix. No, I don't get out much. Can you tell?

But anywho, in the spirit of keeping it short(ish) and not bitter (HA!)...I won't tell you how I discovered her. I'll just say that once I did discover her, our mutual love for Rebel Wilson earned me a follow on Twitter about a week after I started following her. Jenny, not Rebel. Also, I would like to say that if I could get them both in the same room, I would probably be the happiest kid on earth. (OK don't be nasty, I know what you're thinking!)  I'd probably pee myself too but that's an entirely different blog right there.

In the short time that I've been following her, I've developed this HUGE amount of respect for her. She's funny without being crude. Just kidding, she's so inappropriate, it's awesome! Ahem. She's appreciative of the people who've helped her succeed. You've gotta love people who give props to their minions. I mean, support system. *cough*

But I think what I love most about her is that she's willing to put herself out there to help people. She's willing to share things so that others don't feel alone.

See, Jenny suffers from anxiety. I think there are other things she's touched on but I haven't been in the circle long enough to know much more about her.

I'm only going to talk about the anxiety, for now though. Cause honestly, that's the only thing I can relate to at the moment. 

I suffer from SEVERE anxiety. The kind that makes me go from a nervous wreck on the verge of a panic attack to a pissy, bitch within 0.2 seconds flat, because I KNOW 98% of the things I freak out about are not things I should be freaking out about. But I do it anyway. I'm not being treated for it. Why? Because no one but my internet people knows about it. Should I talk to my doctor about it? Probably. Should I tell my family? Abso-fucking-lutely. But not yet. The truth? I don't want to be given yet another pill. If you know me well, you know for a fact I've got a laundry list of things that are wrong with me. Ergo, (yes, I did say ergo), I take an ass-ton of pills. I'm a rolling pharmacy as it is, kids. 

So how do I deal with it? Well, there's the uncontrollable sobbing. That kind of helps...or makes it worse. Depends on the day, really. Then there's Cookie Monster. He's my plush toy. The size of my hand. Poor thing, I squeeze the hell out of him when the shittiest part of the anxiety hits me. Side note: He's gone missing. I CANNOT find him. My mother sweetly pointed out that *Olive probably toy-napped him and most likely has him hostage under my bed. "I'll look. But don't be surprised if all I find is the stuffing." - Thanks, mom. Comforting.

*For those who don't know who Olive is: She's my 1 1/2 year old Shih-tzu/Jack Russell Terrier/Satan mix. She's lovely. Really. *cough*

Then there's THE GLUE. No, I don't sniff glue. Geezuhs, people! - I've said before that I could probably single handedly keep Elmer in business. You know Elmer...the glue guru. 

So, what's the story behind the glue? This is gonna be long. You might wanna go grab some popcorn...and the alcohol. Actually, just grab the alcohol. Another side note: The glue story will bring me back to talking about Jenny. It's all connected. Stay with me. 

Some months ago, on Thanksgiving, or possibly Christmas, I don't remember which, (It was one of those holidays when the entire family gathered at my mom's house and tried to kill one another. Cause we totally need a holiday for THAT to happen) I was just having a bad day. So I sat in my room and I ugly cried. Once that fiasco was over, I looked over at my desk and spotted a bottle of Elmer's school glue. For some strange reason I grabbed it and squeezed some on the palm of my hand. (Yeah, I'm still 28). I spread it in a thin layer and let it dry. Once it dried, my one and only goal at that very moment was to peel it off in one piece. So I went for it. Two minutes later, I had this thin layer of dried glue sitting on my laptop. Suddenly I realized that for the better part of those two minutes, all I was concentrating on was making sure it came off in one piece. Nothing else mattered during those two minutes. Then I realized that it became difficult for me to relive the shittiness that happened pre-glue peeling. So that became a ritual every time shit hit the fan. - I remember doing this as a kid. I don't think it had anything to do with anxiety relief though. I was just a kid who liked to wreak havoc on anything I could get my tiny hands on. Did I mention I've self-diagnosed with ADHD? That probably has more to do with my hypochondria, though. All I gotta do is relate one lone symptom/sign to my every day life and all hell breaks loose. Anyway, back to the glue. Lord bless my 2nd grade teacher for not taking away my glue using privileges. She did supervise my scissors use, though. Smart woman keeping an eye on the clumsiest kid in class. Otherwise I probably would've lived in the nurse's office. Or not at all. So that's my story. My bizarre story. You're welcome, Elmer. I want a cut of the profits.

So why did I dedicate a good portion of this post to glue?! Well, remember that rant about not wanting to be medicated for my anxiety? Jenny says it's OK. 


My response to her was this: "I play w/ Elmer's glue. I don't need to add another drug to my personal pharmacy. It works. Haven't been convicted of anything."

And I haven't been. That you know of. 

The point of this mess that you just read is just to reiterate what she said in her entry: If you're not OK, make yourself OK. Find something that distracts you from the shittyness. Who knows? You might find something to become passionate about. Or something ELSE to be passionate about. Now, I don't know if anyone can become passionate about peeling dried glue off their hand but it sure as hell works for me.

- You like music? Crank up the radio and sing. Or go to a concert...or 5. I can tell you from personal experience, concerts are an amazing escape. 

- You like to read? Get lost in a book. Which brings me to my next point/confession: Jenny recommended (on Twitter) "The Fault in Our Stars." a few days after I received her book in the mail. So here I am, 3 chapters into her book when I decide to look up her recommendation. I found a sampler on Google Play and I was hooked. I bought it and read it. Which kind of gave me no time to actually finish her book. So I'll probably be sitting at the signing not knowing what the hell she's talking about. You only have yourself to blame, Jenny. Seriously, though. Kick ass book. I have no soul left in me but it was totally worth it. - Also because of this, I've gotten reacquainted with books. I hadn't read a book since 2007. I know. 

-You like kicking puppies? Then go...no don't kick puppies. That'll just make a gigantical douchey-dick. You don't wanna be one of those. Trust me. They suck.

I cannot stress it enough: Find your passion. Because even a few minutes spent focusing on your passion is a few minutes spent not thinking about all the shittyness in the world. Shittyness that, well...chances are, is beyond your control. 

Peace out, kiddies.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

You Should Know Better.

The title of my blog? Yeah, it's a song. - By Andy Grammer. If you haven't checked out his music then we can't be friends. Or you could check out his music and save this friendship. If you've checked him out and you don't like him then...to each their own...I guess. Freak. *cough* Sorry, that's not the point of this blog. Moving on.

The point? Well, in the spirit of being a responsible adult and holding myself accountable for the shit that I do (or don't do) and blah blah blah...ahem...I have decided to admit: This weight loss thing? I am officially 10 days in and well...it ain't going...well.

Last Saturday was my first day back at the gym since about 1993. No, just kidding. It was last July, actually.

As you all may or may not know I have lost 18lbs since then. Unfortunately  I don't really know how it happened. Except for having gotten sick for 3 months. Pretty sure I lost a good chunk during that time. Well, having lost those 18lbs (no matter how it happened) gave me the motivation to start on this journey again. Getting past the first goal hump made it seem much more attainable.

So after my doctor's appointment in February (which having GONE to the doctor? That in itself was a breakthrough. Hate going to the doctor) I decided that I would give this another go. I wrote down 3 pages of goals: Nutritional and exercise. And some that didn't fit in either list.  (I've gone to bed at 10pm exactly TWICE) I figured if I wrote things down, I would be more likely to follow through.

That gym thing? I was supposed to go again on Monday AND Thursday but honestly, I think I sent my body into shock or something because I was in some serious pain from Sunday morning to about Thursday afternoon. Heating pads and ibuprofen were my best friends during that time. It was NOT pretty. At all. And yesterday, I couldn't make it out there cause my dad was crazy busy with errands and they close the gym at 2pm.

The food thing? I ate like shit, people. LIKE. SHIT. - I ate fast food TWICE. That I remember. And I drank soda. OhMyGoodness. Not only THAT but I overate pretty much every single day this week. I don't even know WHAT that was about. Seriously, if you put something in front of me, I would have devoured it like I was being paid to. Even if I had JUST eaten. I am ashamed to admit it. And I FELT gross afterwards, too. Like, not just physically, but I just...mentally beat myself up. I know that's not right either but...some of you have read my FB statuses, I'm not all there, at the moment so it made it SO much easier to just be pissed off and convince myself that I deserved to feel shitty.

So now that I have gotten all THAT off my chest, my calorie "allowance" "re-starts" back up again tomorrow. I will try to go to the gym if my dad can drive me, and I will switch my weigh-in day to Mondays. I have to re-do my entire schedule though. Oy. I can't promise that I will definitely go the gym. Again, sometimes shit happens and I can't get out there. (Someone buy me a car. And teach me to drive it. Don't forget to draw up your will.) . I WILL promise this though: If I can't get to the gym, I will work out on Wii boxing for at least 45 minutes. You read it here. If I haven't worked out by 6pm (MY TIME, PEOPLE!) please yell at me. And if you live anywhere near me, come take away my techy toys. Except for my iPod. I can't work out without music.

That's it. I guess. - So for those of you non-Andy Grammer fans, since I couldn't find a good video of the song I used for my blog title, I will leave you with the video of what I THINK is the latest single (which really came out in September): Miss Me. - Cause I mean...glow sticks. And Andy on a rooftop. Why wouldn't you want to watch it?



Peace out kiddies. And again, thank you for getting through my nonsense.

Lupe

P.S. When I clicked on the video, there was an ad with Justin Timberlake in it. Since a bunch of you are in JT mode since last night's SNL, I thought you'd like to know that both JT and AG beatbox. And they're both so damn good at it. They should battle it out. For serious. That would be amazingness. Ok, NOW I'm done.

"And I promise you this, you're gonna miss me. As long as you live, you're gonna miss me."