Blonde Story Short

While this is something I loooooathe, when the word around is attached to it, I seem to be an expert at running. And may I just say that I only use the word looooooooathe for things I really take issue with; running, pumping gas, men who use straighteners...I think I've made my point. How the constant running around happens with out the morning coffee a normal human is allowed to indulge in, I'm not sure. Being a struggler like myself means that coffee (delicious decaf nonfat lattes excluded), too much red wine, and chocolate...bring on migraines. Some sort of sick joke I know. There are females who make entire meals out of these three decadent treats! Gimme a frigen break. The amount of running around town that goes on in a given week is just too much, especially given how I feel about having to pump gas, I'm confident you see the connection there ;) Somehow every single day (except the beloved Sabbath which is usually spent in a nap-filled haze, on a very sweet man...

Writing about Brad (and his friends) is one thing. Blogging about American Idol is quite another. However, above and beyond my own will, I have been sucked in, for today. Just today. Mama had an email waiting for me this morning. It was important I call her as soon as I could. Reason being, at 4:00 sharp, her votes for the American Idol Office Pool are due. It is vital that she have all the information before submitting her ballot. Who better to help with the analysis of this pop culture phenomenon...than her super hip 20-something? False. Well, false that I'm hip (except for the fact that I do wear an occasional bump-it and skinny jeans) but true that given a task of this nature, I could assist and could NOT resist. And so my morning in the office consisted of none other than some AI Research. Read some blogs, youtubed it; copiously noting how many "hits" each idol's video received, like any good fact finder would. I even had some intellectual conversation on th...

Yea I've been a gym-goer lately. Thanks for noticing. My latest and greatest (for now at least) way to work it out, "it" meaning the womanly figure, is to hit up my gym's group exercise classes...otherwise known as Group X, catchy right? Don't you immediately feel compelled to join in and see what exactly their X-factor is ? Being back to two jobs (tutor extraordinaire recently added to my resume) makes it a little difficult to fit in cardio-tastic workouts like I should . I mean sure I could do some bicep reps at home while eating my typical stir fry din and watching Gossip Girl, but is that really gonna burn fat? Unlikely. Notice I didn't question whether or not it would make me sweat... Group X Classes, so hardcore, keep me coming back for more because of their three vital factors: 1. In-doors and in-PointLoma 2. Located on the top level of the meat mark..., I mean gym 3. Enticing for anti-social behavior Here's the deal with number one. Once the sun ...

Some call it "The Bachelor." This season it may as well be called Brad and friends*...in my opinion at least. I guess the girls have names and identities too (beyond emotional brunette, insecure blonde and southern bell). Since I learn so very much from this deep, thought-provoking ABC hit, I thought documenting a few of my findings might be beneficial... to the world at large. 1. On a home visit (the first parental meeting in real life), a statue and multiple marble pillars in the home...means they are loaded and their daughter will be getting a rose. 2. "See a future" means one could hang out for longer than the length of a "One-on-one date" and wouldn't mind making out with you once the cameras have come and gone. 3. Smart people respond "Si" when asked how they are, in French. 4. "Fair enough" should be said often and in various situations, especially when feeling slightly uncomfortable. 5. "Rock solid," "110%,...

While some of my kind may swoon over a day dedicated to Conroy's, See's and scallop-edged hearts, I have just never been a huge fan of the old St. Valentines' Day. Shocker. Perhaps it's due to some past V-days resulting in multiple texts asking if I'd like "join" romantic escapades like getting "McDonald's and a 12-pack." BTW, did anyone else just realize society really should use the word swoon more often? Anyhoo, I'm not going to pretend to loathe a gift or steak and red wine din thrown my way in mid February, but when that "V hyphen Day" falls on a Monday and I have laundry to put away and significant TV shows to watch, I honestly could do without it altogether. This year the way the boo made me "celebrate" this love-ly day was just right. Partly because it was carried out the day before (A Sunday-Funday hello?!) and partly because the formula was so very brilliant... It started with him seeking out my EXPERTise i...

I'm going to admit something (this confession theme keeps reoccurring, I think I may be reacquainting myself with my Catholic roots) Anyway.... I have a boo. And to be honest, after reviewing some older posts, it's hard to believe I met a man I actually want to spend considerable amounts of time with. I'm sorta but not really, kidding. Regardless, I believe the reason I've allowed this Quarter-Latin-Prize to make himself comfortable in my little world is because (and I'll say this one and ONE time only): My boo is The Best. Like the Best of the Best. No I'm not going to make that my status update. Calm down. What I'm not admitting right now is that I've been tricked into falling in love, but rather that the man I've fallen in love WITH...makes fun of Brad. Brad who? Join me in 2011...Brad is this season's Bachelor. Let's explore together... Brad is a sweet, southern gentleman, whose body is clearly the worst. B-Rad is the first of the Bac...

I'm just going to share what I think will be helpful for some...from a group of us that prefer to be called "Rosy." When us pale kids become really, really "Rosy"...like not in a cute "blushed" way, but in an almost purple way, you can rest assure from this day forward, that we KNOW about it before YOU tell us. You don't have to tell us. I mean, you can't possibly think we don't notice we have turned from white to crimson in a matter of seconds. I personally have the following harsh rebuttal prepared for just the right day when my beat red Ora gets me so riled up I respond to such obvious information with: "Are ya kidding me?! Of COURSE I know I'm red. I could fry an egg on these cheeks! Now stop drawing more damn attention to them!!" It's good right? This prepped work of art would've been super appropriate last week. Appropriate if I wanted to be fired of course, no pun intended. After the most frustrating and circula...