Check it off! I crossed the finish line!

I completed my first 5K last weekend! (Something that is on my Bucket List). Some of you know that I've been training the last two months for it... sorta. One of my best friends, Kristen, and I tried to work up to running the entire 5K with an interval training program we found on Runner's World. But, it turned into us kinda bailing out more often than not to bike ride or sunbathe and running only three days a week.

But I did it! I ran the whole time... I'm pretty proud. I've never ran a race before, and it was super fun. The biggest challenge I thought was sticking to my own pace at the beginning while every one took off a breakneck speed. I'm pretty slow, but I wanted to make sure I paced myself, so I could run the entire time.

I didn't feel like it was a huge struggle, but I was glad to see that finish line (with beer and bananas. Oh my, what a pair). I'm definitely going to sign up for another race in a couple months to keep up the cardiovascular momentum!

And of course, after all that running and working out, a girl's gotta eat. So, I washed down my 5K calorie burn with a corn dog! DUH.

Currently Feeling: Pumped from the Pearl Jam concert last night. Eddie makes my heart sing.
Currently Anticipating: Sunbathing today! End of summer, what? It's supposed to be 89 degrees in Seattle.
Currently Loving: That I can smell the saltwater air coming through my windows right now. I love living near the water!

Whrrling my way at the Seahawks game

Ever heard of Whrrl? It's a pretty sweet app/Web site that allows you to create "stories" to share with your friends on Twitter, Facebook, blogs, etc. I went to my very first Seattle Seahawks game last night, so I thought I'd make a mini story for YOU. Check it out!

More stories at Qwest Field

Powered by Whrrl

Currently Feeling: A little sad it's the last big camping weekend of the summer.
Currently Anticipating: One last summer fun, swimming and floating weekend!
Currently Reading: Such a Pretty Fat by Jen Lancaster. So freakin' funny!!

Hotttt child in the city

For those of you who follow me on Twitter, Facebook or read my "Currently"s, you know that I went to hot yoga last night with my sister.

To say I was a bit nervous is an understatement - my anxiety toward the class continued to build as the day went on. It started with my post on Facebook about how I was nervous to go to hot yoga. From there, I received THIRTEEN comments from people, which either gave me advice on how not to pass out, or said things like, "Even sports athletes pass out!" or "Did I tell you about the time I passed out, got a concussion and had to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance in the middle of class???" (True story). Gee, thanks friends.

It only escalated more when even the yoga teacher told me, "I see people swaying back and forth all the time - just lie down if you feel like you're lightheaded. By signing these two papers, you agree to not leave the room, NO.MATTER.WHAT. Even if you think you're going to pass out, just lie down, don't leave the room."

Um, yah. About that last part. Have I told you that I have minor anxiety about being sick in public and not being able to get away? If that doesn't make sense... image why I have a fear of flying - because if I have to puke or have to go to "the bathroom" or catch the Ebola virus, I don't want to be stuck in a place with a bunch of other people, in a situation that I can't escape from. What can I say, I have a thing for being sick in the privacy of my own home. So let's say I feel like I'm going to puke or pass out, I don't want to be holed up in a room with all the other people in the yoga class.

After that little proclamation, I was ready to throw in the towel and give up completely. My heart was already palpitating a little bit. And to make matters worse, one of the most gorgeous, hot-bodied men I've seen in a long time was in line behind me, sans shirt, waiting to pay his price for the class I was signing up for. Scenes were flashing through my mind - I'd slump to the ground in a sweaty heap, my tongue would be lying out of my mouth, drool trailing slowly down my left cheek, the ambulance would come and they'd have to CUT OFF my yoga pants with scissors, and I'd be wearing granny work out panties. (Isn't that why women wear cute underwear all the time - for the fear that we'll be caught somewhere with our pants down, literally, in gross undies?!) And the hot man would be there to see the whole thing.

I sucked it up though, entered the room and set up my yoga mat. (My little sister was there to taunt me with the fact that hot yoga burns as many calories as an hour of running). I was only two minutes in, just sittin' around and waiting for the instructor to start, and I was already thinking about how nice a hammock in a stiff breeze would feel. Or maybe dunking my head IN a pitcher of margaritas. Or taking an ice cold shower. That room is mother freakin' HOT. I tried not to think too much about just how hot I was, cause then that good ole anxiety would start to creep up again, but if I panicked, I'd be STUCK in the room with everyone else watching me have a minor meltdown.

Anywhoo, hot yoga (or Bikram yoga, as it's named after the founder) is a series of 26 postures and two breathing exercises. I didn't know this, but it's the same EVERY.time. In Power Yoga, or the yoga most gyms offer, it's usually always different, ranging in different poses and sets of moves. But, the 26 poses in Bikram are exactly the same, from beginning to end, every class. The poses work in intervals, pushing yourself for one minute in a few poses, then doing them again for 30 seconds. Sort of a rise and fall - bringing your heart rate up and then letting it come back down. Wooo boy, did I appreciate that. And by "that," I mean the slow down part. When you're out of breath and your heart is rapidly beating, being in a 105-degree room with 40 percent humidity only compounds the agony. It's like if you decided to run a marathon inside a sauna. So I appreciated every little rest and small sip of water I was gifted. (Cause, no lie, water sips are regulated in the class since actually having too much water can make you sick).

I totally managed to survive the class without passing out or panicking. It was a lot different than yoga classes I've attended in the past - a lot less relaxing, to tell you the truth. I feel like Bikram is more about pushing past a mental state of wanting to breakdown, rather than slow breathing and stretching while listening to a babbling brook. Afterward, it really is like no other feeling. Kinda like, "I can conquer the world!"

Oh, and I had NO idea that much sweat could come out of my body...

Currently Feeling: Sleepy from staying up too late to finish my resume for the career workshop I'm in today. (Good thing someone pushed me to finish by a deadline).
Currently Anticipating: Happy hour with Adam tonight.
Currenty Wishing: There was another "good" fat on this diet besides almonds, avocado and olive oil. Those three things are getting mighty boring for dressings.

Launched: New little blog project

So, I've mentioned earlier this week that I'm launching a new blog project with the BF. It was something that came about this past weekend - a suggestion from him, actually. Surprising since I'm the blogging whore in this relationship, and he's constantly making fun of my Internet geekiness.

Basically, we're always camping, going on road trips and trying out new wineries and restaurants. And when we do these types of things, we're always reviewing and critiquing, comparing, liking, loving or hating the places we go. We thought it'd be fun to start up a review site of the all the places we venture out to. So basically, if you're one of my readers outside of Washington state, this won't interest you at all. But if you're one of my friends, a family member, or someone living in Washington, this might interest you if you're looking for a place to camp or eat. We're only going to be updating as we go places, so not that frequently. But in the meantime, I've written and backlogged a few of the places we've gone over this past year. You can always find what I've posted on the site in the sidebar on this blog.

Check it out if you feel so inclined!

Caviar & Campfires

Oh, and happy Friday. It's 70+ degrees in Seattle, with a forecast of 80 degrees. You bet your butt I'm going to be out partying and sunbathing this weekend - I hope you are too!

Currently Feeling: Happy, happy, happy for a weekend home in the sun. But a little guilty with how much I feel I didn't get done this week.
Currently Anticipating: Girls night out on the town tonight, and floating and jet skiing tomorrow.
Currently Reading: The Year of Living Biblically by A. J. Jacobs.

Quest for the Holy Grail

Did you know that they melted down the Holy Grail and made it into a bike? I know this because I went on a personal quest for it today.

(Holding coconuts) Clop, clop, clop.*

About a month ago, my BF went to a sports store in Seattle that is going out of business and was having a huge sale. His mission: a new bike. While I was at this sports store, I found a girls bike leaning in the corner, and I sat on it to ride it around the store. Mostly out of boredom. I’ve had a trusty mountain bike that I got for Christmas in 10th grade, and I never felt the need to upgrade since I’m not an avid rider. Except I fell in love with this bike during the two loops that I made around the store. It had handle bars that perfectly curved back for women’s smaller arms. The seat was on a suspension system that would gently sit back every time you moved or went over a bump. (Which I later found is patented to K2). AND, it was cute and girly with flowers on the frame. I wanted it bad. The price tag, however, wasn’t something I was prepared for. So, I sadly left the bike at the store.

In the next month, all I could think about was the bike. I told everyone I knew about it. I pictured how DIFFERENT my life would be – “If I had this bike, I’d ride it everywhere, and I’d get totally skinny and HOT,” I’d say inside my head. “I’ll start riding my bike to work! I won’t eat Taco Bell at 2 a.m. or make Belgium waffles so I can dip them in cream cheese frosting anymore!” (Someone please throw out the tub of frosting that is still sitting in my fridge from my BF’s birthday cake. Please). I went to the Web site and drooled at it – I read reviews and decided that I MUST have this bike.

Yesterday I found it on Amazon.com for nearly half the price. I decided it was going to be mine. But when went to make the purchase today, I realized the only size they had was meant for girls 5’9’’ and above. Let me tell you, that’s not me. I do not originate from The Amazon. My heart sank. I startled Googling for the bike, but I couldn’t find the size and model I needed anywhere for sale in ALL of the Internet universe. WTF?

K2 listed REI as their only retail provider, but REI's site didn't have the bikes. I was getting a little nervous. I decided to call all the REIs in the state of Washington, desperate for one last in-store model. Store 1, none. Store 2, none. Store 3, not the model I wanted. Store 4, not the model I wanted. Store 5 was all too kind to tell me that K2 is discontinuing their bikes, and pretty much “you don’t have a chance in hell in finding it.”

I started to panic. Finally, one store searched their inventory lists and told me they had one in the size I needed in Oregon, one in New Jersey and one a size larger at a local store.

I started to feel a bit jittery and nervous as I dialed the number to the local store. I’d make the size a little bit larger work! I’d where platform sandals every time I rode it! I HAD.TO.HAVE this bike!

“Ohhhh. I think we just sold that this morning,” the guy in the local REI’s bike department told me.

F*&#!

I had most definitely fallen in love with the Holy Grail of bicycles.

I made the one last phone call to the REI in Oregon for the bike. This was my only chance at true bike love. Otherwise, I was destined to be bitter and trip all the girls I ever see who were lucky enough to buy this bike before it turned into the Holy Grail. The store in Oregon hadn’t sold theirs yet AND it was the color I wanted (something I was going to budge on, but I wanted the pink one over the red, obvs.)

VICTORY! VICTORY!

This sweet little number is going to be on her way to me this week:

I can’t wait! I better go finish the tub of frosting before she gets here…

*If you got that reference. You rock. If you didn’t, you must go watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail immediately.

Currently Feeling: Stressed out about this project I have to launch next Wednesday at work. I can’t seem to focus, and it’s not done. Grr.
Currently Anticipating: Happy hour and a night out tonight, hanging out with a long lost girl friend tomorrow night and the Seattle Cheese Festival on Sunday at Pike Place Market!
Currently Loving: That it’s going to be in the 70s this weekend! Hello sunshine! I think I’m in love with you.

The Tale of Two Non-Virgins Who Can't Perform at the Pool

Last night I took a trip to the public pool. Or la piscine (piss-seen), as one would say in French, which I think is much more fitting than “swimming pool.” After all, a public pool is probably very a la piscine from all the kids. Cause really, as a kid, we all know we were warned and reprimanded 100x about peeing in the pool, but we did it anyway, holding our breath to see if the water really would change another color from the “special chemical.” And it didn’t. This therefore just warranted a cycle of peeing in the pool very discreetly instead of getting out of the water, freezing cold, for a trip to the bathroom. (I might or might not have just admitted that I used to pee in the pool).

This is what I think about now that I’m an adult and swim in common areas with children, such as lakes, docks and pools.

But, it still didn’t stop me from brushing those thoughts aside for a Monday-night trip to the pool and community center in my neighborhood. A little pee never hurt anyone! (Gross. I can’t believe I just typed that).

Baby Daddy and I threw the good ole suits on and paid our $4 fee, entering our respective locker rooms. I haven’t been to a community pool since I believe I was in 5th grade. As a child who took swim lessons and attended a number of pool dates with the neighbor kids, it was all very familiar to me – the lockers with keys that you pin to your suit, inevitably leaving a hole in your swimsuit; the cold cement floors with clumps of other people’s hair; the freezing cold shower you’re supposed to take before jumping in the pool; the sting as the smell of chlorine hits your nostrils; the scratchy pool lining that snags the bottom of your suit; the echo of little kids shouting and run-walking down the sides of the pool to the diving board; and the dum, dum thump of the diving board as one swimmer jumps off before the next one walks to the end.

I was hoping for a hot tub, but no such luck. There was a sauna that we spent 15 minutes in before I felt like my face was going to melt off while I simultaneously hyperventilated. (Am I the only one who things these are bearable, at best, and totally uncomfortable to sit in with other people?) So then we jumped into the pool for a bit, and I grabbed a noodle to float on. I figured I’d do a little kicking, doggy paddling and seeing how long I could stand on my hands under water, and count it as my work out for the day. Except just as we got in, a very official pool man started putting up signs that dictated speeds and others began rolling out the plastic floating lines. Dammit – lap swim.

Baby Daddy and I got out and sat on the bleachers and watched the swimmers crowd their chosen lanes.

Me: Well, crap. Do you want to do lap swim?
Him: I don’t care. Whatever you want; I’d be just okay with leaving.
Me: But, we’ve only been here for 20 minutes. I’d be a little embarrassed to walk out passed the lady we paid $4 to at the front desk. We could just get in a kick around a little bit.
Him: Yeah.
Me: I mean, look at that dude, he’s got a kickboard. We couldn’t look any stupider than that.
Him: I wouldn’t use a kickboard. No way. Look at that guy, he’d probably go somewhere a lot quicker if he weren’t slapping the water with every stroke.
Me: He’s old. Cut ‘em some slack. Besides, we don’t know that we’d look too much better. That’s the problem – I have no idea what I look like when I swim.
Him: Me either.
Me: Everyone’s got a cap on. I don’t want to wear a cap.
Him: And goggles.
Me: Crap. We’re total public-pool amateurs.
Him: Yeah. And now it’s probably too late to get in. We’ve sat here too long, staring at everyone.
Me: I can’t believe we just paid $4 to sit in a sauna for 15 minutes and watch people swim for 20.
Him: I'd be down if it weren't lap swim - there’s too much pressure to perform.
Me: Yeah, we’re pool shy.*

Ba boom, CCHHHINGG.**

*I was referring to definition #2.
** That's supposed to be my drum and symbol sound they always make after jokes.

Currently Feeling: In need of some serious workouts this week - the last three-week push until Mexico!
Currently Anticipating: Home sweet home. This daylight savings time transition is rough.
Currently Loving: Chocolate protein shakes with milk, NOT water.

I did it, I said FART on my blog

I’ve recently been attending a yoga class at my gym on Monday nights. I’ve always wanted to do yoga, but have never found the time or money for it. This week I finally unwrapped the pink yoga mat I purchased approximately eight months ago that's been in my car, if that tells you anything. I think the increase in stress and anxiety in my life led me searching for someway to relieve it – and I’ve always heard yoga does the trick. So I signed myself up.

So far, it’s been really great. I love the special yoga room at my gym that has equipment to borrow, like blocks and straps, so I don’t have to buy them, and the giant windows gently let downtown Seattle twilight the room. I love that the yoga teacher plays relaxing music – but not just “ding, ding, ding” and babbling brooks – a couple weeks ago she busted out “Us and Them” by Pink Floyd. (A personal favorite).

But really, I have a dilemma with this whole yoga thing. I seriously only concentrate on not-farting the whole time I’m there. Yes, I know it. I just said FART on my blog. Gross. But, “girls give off just as much methane gas from farting as men” or something, which is what my boyfriend told me once to ease my embarrassment about farting myself awake while lying asleep in his lap on the couch. (Yes. He was awake; so mortifying). The problem with the girls farting vs. guys farting thing - even if we’re on level playing fields there - is that guys get away with it. They don’t care; they don’t give excuses, and they certainly don’t get embarrassed. But us girls, oh no – we’d rather die a slow and terrible death - or kill someone - than fart out loud in public or, for most of us, around a boyfriend. (I will never be okay with opening doing this with a boyfriend, and for those of you who think it’s a part of being comfortable with someone, I will argue you to the death).

So the whole 75 minute class, I'm thinking about how freaking.embarrassing it'd be to fart. But yoga forces you to bend and contort your body, often times holding and squeezing muscles with your butt high in the air. There’s times when it’s all I can do to prevent a slip. It’s stressing me out! I tell yeah, I join yoga to ease my mind from the stresses of life, and I spend the whole time stressing about farting. I need a stress-reliever from yoga. Or from farting.

Namaste.

Currently Feeling: Super relieved to have Mexico figured out.
Currently Anticipating: A crock pot dinner tonight with Bestie Amanda.
Currently Loving: Soy crisps with Laughing Cow cheese.

Two Tickets to the Butt Show

Last night I went to the buttlet. I mean ballet.

A friend of mine called because she had two tickets to George Balanchine’s “Jewels” at McCaw Hall and wanted to invite me last minute. “Why not?” I thought. I’d never been to a ballet before (outside of The Nutcracker, which is more of a play with a lot of child dancers), and figured it be good to check it off my list. We hit up happy hour on Queen Anne, downed a couple glasses of wine and walked down to McCaw Hall, where we took our seats, only 16 rows back from the stage, right before the curtain rose. I quickly flipped through the program. “Jewels” is apparently a classic ballet and George Balanchine a famous composer, which I didn’t know. All I could focus on was that it was plotless (just dancing to classical music without a storyline) for nearly three hours. Uh, oh. What did I get myself into?

As the ballerinas tinkled out of the side curtains – so did the ballemen. Is that what they’re called? Well, either way – I was NOT prepared. No way, no how. Those guys are seriously not wearing more than what looks like white paint on their legs, buttocks and package. Imagine if I left the house this morning with nothing on but a top and sheer pantyhose. It is SO distracting. You can see every muscle and dimple in their butts, which are like Jenny from the Block size, as they turn and twist and prance across the stage. I’d compare it to soft porn.

Here’s my night at the ballet in a nutshell:

Act I: Emeralds

Pretty green ballerinas dance out, following by ballemen in white pants and poofy sleeves. Oh look at how they sway their butts arms. Tinkle, tinkle. Sway, sway. LOOK AT HIS ASS. Tip-toe, twirl. HOLY SHIT; IT’S HUGE. Curtain.

Intermission: We guzzle a glass of white wine.

Act II: Rubies

Ooh. Red and gold. Out come the ballemen again in white pants and puffy sleeves. Sassy jazz music. I like this butt dance better. OH MY GOD HE JUST BENT OVER. Tip-toe, arabesque, dance, swish-sway, big smile. Wow. The primo ballerina is amazing. I SAW A DIMPLE! I SAW A DIMPLE! Curtain.

Intermission: We guzzle a glass of white wine.

Act III: Diamonds

Sparkles bedazzled everywhere and pretty tulle tutus – and here they come again in white pants and puffy sleeves. Oh, five ballemen at once. I don’t know what to do with myself. FIVE BUTTS, FIVE BUTTS, CENSORY OVERLOAD. Ooh they’re so strong and big. Yeah baby. LOOK AT THEIR EYES, LOOK AT THEIR EYES. Butt. Curtain.

All in all, baby got back. Er, I mean I’d definitely go back.

Currently Feeling: So sleepy. I want to take a nap like right meow.
Currently Anticipating: Seeing my BF tomorrow when he flies home from Montucky!
Currently Loving: SparkPeople.com

In which I relent on hating hippies, just a bit

Last night I finally tried out this Nia fitness class at my gym. I recently grabbed a calendar of classes, scowering for a few fun ones I could hit after the 5 o’clock chime rang at work. The description for the class read,

“Bring total well-being to your lifestyle through Nia, a unique workout that empowers physical, mental, emotional and spiritual health by blending dance, martial and healing arts to creatively move “your body’s way.”

So, I Googled it to wrap my head around the concept a little more, and found a Web site that explained that Nia is a combination of martial arts (T’ai Chi, Tae Kwon Do, Aikido), dance (Jazz, Modern and Duncan) and healing arts (Yoga, Feldenkrais method and Alexander technique), and Nia stands for neuromuscular integrative action.

It all sounded very hippie to me… I was reminded of the Sex and the City episode when Carrie and Miranda take the fitness class with scarves…and although I’ve previously stated that I dislike hippies, I decided to give it a try.

True to my preconceived ideas, the class was Earth-loving, good thoughts, auras and chakras. But it was also totally awesome. The music was upbeat and modern, and we were supposed to wave our arms, stretch or reach to the side in the “movement right for your body.” It was a lot of freeform, dancing around the floor, “reaching to the sky and pounding the Earth,” mixed in with some true martial arts kicks, punches and loud grunts. It was totally hilarious, and I tried to ignore the people, walking by the glass walls of the classroom. I don’t know if I would have been able to truly let go and follow along with the class if I’d been with someone I knew. But I gave it my all. I grunted, and flung my arms, and twirled around like a butterfly, and kicked and punched the air (while picturing my frustrations).

Afterward, when the lights were out, and we were sending out our good thoughts into the World, loving the whooollle human race and pushing all the bad thoughts out of our head, I thought, “I’m totally coming next week.”

Currently Feeling: Restless for the weekend.
Currently Anticipating: Staying in tonight with my BF, a bottle of wine and some cheesecake.
Currently Excited For: Larisa and Dave, who finally set a date!

Here we go for 30 days, Buddy

I finally stuck in Jillian Andrew's fitness DVD, "30-Day Shred" tonight. I first read about it on This Fish, who the linked to her blog friend who started it as well. Both girls mentioned how difficult but effective it's rumored to be. My curiosity was piqued, (not peeked or peaked), and I ordered it that day from Amazon.com.

After a couple more weeks of groveling about my extra "boyfriend pounds" and staring at the very intimidating, unwrapped DVD on my dresser, I finally bit the bullet tonight after trying on Halloween costumes this week, and hating everyone of them. (Luckily I still have my mom's sewing magic up my sleeve).

Hello, pain! I know this is day one, but pushing yourself through excruciating lateral raise after excruciating push up is really difficult! And the whole time Ms. Jillian is shouting, "Don't give up! I don't care how tired you are! This is only 20 minutes, so you can't stop! If you want to see results, you have to push yourself, Buddy!" I'm sure the new neighbors below me were thinking all sorts of odd things, from "Hmm, Elephant above me," to "Wow, that's some intense post-dinner coitus."

Nope, nope. Neither one. Just 20-Something sweatin' to "the toughest trainer on TV." Hey, if she can make 75-plus pounds melt off the realty TV suckers on The Biggest Loser, she can certainly help me lose my jiggle that seems to have miraculously appeared somewhere between wine every night after work and pizza with my Pizza-Obsessive boyfriend. (Gawd, and he's so damn thin. I hate the male metabolism).

So, here's to the beginning of my 30-day shred. *Wine glass raised*

Joggin' Along to Jerry Springer

Holy balls. My gym’s downtown location is amazing.

I finally remembered to bring my workout gear today for a little lunchtime work out session at the Executive Club location of my gym – three blocks from my work.

I recently searched for a gym with locations that I could easily access from home and from work. So, I was eager to jump at joining my new gym when they told me that since they cut back their fitness classes at my neighborhood location, I could pay their membership fees ($40 a month), but could also go to their Executive Club location downtown without paying the membership dues for it ($70 a month).

Hot diggity damn. Boy did I luck out. The Executive Club location downtown is fAAA-nCY. The locker rooms have a steam room, private showers, ironing board, steaming wand, etc. The third floor has cardio equipment, free weights, a rock climbing wall and “Winter Garden Room” with a patio for lunches. The workout rooms have big, etched glass doors with brand new equipment and personal TVs on the treadmills. And, there's a full spa and intermittent lounge areas with leather couches and flat screen TVs throughout the gym and locker rooms. My favorite part though—there’s a huge, private “women’s only” workout room with cardio equipment placed on the perimeter, so you can people watch all the downtown crazies, and free weights, machines, etc., so you can pump iron without feeling shy in front of the boys.


Today on the treadmill I watched, “The Secrets of Hollywood’s Hottest Cougars,” on VH1 where I learned that “the ultimate hoo-hoo rehab” is “vaginoplasty.” And I even caught a couple minutes of Jerry Springer, which I haven’t watched since early college. Do you know that they now do, “Sesame Springer”? It’s Jerry Springer, but with muppets dressed up as the guests, and the muppets act out the guests’ stories.

So, not only did I get a fantastic workout during lunch today, but I also now have zero-faith in the human race.

Currently Feeling: Snacky.
Currently Anticipating: Sunshine after work today. Perhaps a jaunt around Greenlake?
Currently Loving: SmartFood popcorn with white cheddar popcorn seasoning.

Man, did I need a weekend like this

Since Christmas, I’ve been in sort of a boredom funk. Part of me has been trying to save money to pay down my credit card balances (I’m halfway there thanks to my tax return and recent frugality!), part of me is feeling a little body conscious after my holiday and new boyfriend eating binge, therefore trying to trade drinking and eating out for staying in and cooking healthy, and the other part of me is just hibernating during my least favorite months of winter. I’ve been especially low-key since Baby Daddy has been gone, and haven’t spent too many crazy nights out during January and February. So unlike me.

I more than made up for it this weekend. I said to myself toward the end of last week, “You know what, Jeanna? I think it’s time for you to binge drink this weekend.”

And so I did. I make a point to stick to my goals.

One of my besties from college, Justin, aka Big J aka Lawdy aka Big Lawdy Style, flew in Thursday night from L.A. Every time he arrives, it’s like partying is kicked in full force, and we try to make up for all the other days a year that we can’t party together. It makes my liver hurt. But, it’s oh so reckless and fun.

Big J and I rocking the party that rocks the party

We spent Valentine’s Day night at Sunset Bowl, with a little karaoking and bowling. I had a little beer buzz going since I rarely drink the stuff anymore, but also caused me to wake up with a raging headache the next morning. No fun. The beer buzz certainly helped my bowling game, however. Vanessa, Sarah and I were knocking them out of the park (or down the lane, I should say). I bowled a 134, Vanessa a 135 and Sarah scored an unbelievable 187 thanks to five strikes in a row. Of course, we can’t ever do that for our Lucky Strikes bowling league on Sunday nights. Go figure.

Can you believe how awesome our scores were! (And our bowling names!)

Saturday I hit the town again with Big J and two more of my good college friends, Kelly and Adam. I happened to fall head first into a bottle of VikingFjord vodka I had at home. I swear, that stuff is like water. We headed to Merchant’s Café for a few more stiff drinks and pool, then finished out night off at Fado. And then Justin, Adam and I stayed up till 3:30 a.m., eating and playing Super Nintendo at my house.

All of us hanging out at Merchant's Cafe getting super silly time

Of course, to round out my weekend, I was ready to do it all again Saturday night for my Dolphin Sister’ birthday. After some champagne and the rest of my vodka, we headed to Marcus’ Martini Heaven, where Larisa and Vanessa had rented out a portion of the bar for their birthday. I’m not a huge fan of the place; it’s a little dark, small and dungeony to me. But, I couldn’t complain when I ordered a tall vodka diet and they charged me $4. Whoo hoo! I mixed, ate and mingled until Justin, Adam and Kelly showed up from a going away party they were at, and we again headed to Fado. (It must have been a Pioneer Square and Fado weekend. Strange, since I rarely ever frequent those places.) Apparently I was doing some dancing at Fado (memory relapse) and took a nasty little spill on the sidewalk (everything is still unscratched and intact).

Happy Birthday My Dolphin Sisters! May we have another 13 years together!

Celebratin birthdays at Marcus' Martini Heaven


Barely making it through the end of the night...so nice of Justin to make fun

I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to wake up with enough energy to not shower, throw on a hat and hang out with the fam since my lil’ sis was in town from WSU for the weekend. It was a beautiful, sunny Seattle day, so we headed to Greenlake for lunch at World Wraps and a little jaunt around the lake. We wrapped up the day at Bottega Italiana for Gelato, and then I rushed off to Sunset Bowl (again) for our fifth and final season as The Lucky Strikes. I bowled like crap, but wrapped up my wonderful weekend with a quick grocery store trip to pick up a few things (where some guy told me I had a mighty fine walk. Thank you mama!) and I bought possibly the best purchase in a long time: a microwave omelette maker for $2.99. I have been perfecting my omelette skills all week at work, and I think I might write a microwave omelette cookbook—I’m that good. Trust me.

My wonderful, amazing and cheap new microwave omelette pan!

So, I had crazy weekend filled with awesome friends, family and omelettes—that’s all folks.

Currently Feeling: Super indecisive about the Vegas package I want to buy.
Currently Anticipating: Using my new $7 weights in exercise class today at work.
Currently Loving: The beautiful sea green bag I just purchased from Nordstrom’s.

Guck Folf

I went golfing for the first time this weekend.

Kristen held a little birthday shindig on Saturday, which started with a golfing adventure at Willow’s Run in Redmond. Now, I’ve never golfed on a real golf course before, but while I lived at home, I did partake in a number of father-daughter bonding trips to the driving range. I enjoyed hitting buckets of balls because it always seemed an aggression-releasing activity, and since I have great eye/hand coordination, I didn’t suck. But, that doesn’t mean that if you stick me on a golf course, I won’t suck. Really, the whole sport doesn’t interest me. It sort of seems a lot like pool—trying to get a small round ball into a hole, using different angles and techniques, and really always missing the hole, resulting in a completely bored and listless pool-playing Jeanna. Plus, I’m a heel wearer. All the time. Well, if I want to feel sexy and not like stumpy, scrubby flip-flop wearing Jeanna. Therefore, golf didn’t ever seem conducive to my interests.

Kristen roped me in with the “just ride around in the golf cart and drink $1 PBRs!” hook though. Damn that’s a tough one to resist. So, I wore slightly less spiky and dressy heels (wedges), and met them on the green. And I have to admit, I was pretty entertained. Not only was it great to get carted around the sunny course with a PBR and ciggies in hand, but I got to watch not one, but TWO, of my friends completely eat shit out of the golf cart—both of which saved their PBR from spilling each time.



So yeah, I didn’t golf. I could have paid money to smack the ball in the general direction of the flag, lose a couple balls only to hunt for them in the thick of mud and grass, and been bored to death. But, I opted to attend as the cheering squad for my friends. And now, I won’t be so opposed to going golfing if eight pound baby Jesus happens to gift me with a golf lover. (Please, no.)

Conclusion: I take back my original and stereotypical judgment that golf is boring. Scratch that. I’m down with golf as long as there’s sunshine, golf carts and beer involved.

Currently Feeling: Ready to round third and slide on home!
Currently Anticipating: Hearing back from one of these effing places I’ve sent resumes to.
Currently Listening To: The five CDs Jesse burnt and shipped to me, all the way from Oregon.

Five, four, three, two....

Today marks the one-month-to-go post for Memorial Day weekend.
Not gonna lie, I’m sweating balls.
I’ve been super strict with my eating habits—no fast food, no white carbs, no sugar!
AND, I’ve been running three times a week. (Yes, you heard it here first, I’m still running. I haven’t given up. I’m bound and determined to make it! I’m in the midst of the fourth week of my nine-week training to run a 5K. Pebbles for some of you, but a boulder for me.)

All I can think about is the warm sun on my buns, coconut-scented sweat beaded between by breatestes and sand between my toes (and in my crack). Oh man.

SO, now that we’re one-month away, let me ask—do you feel bathing suit ready?!

(I just added that photo cause he's mother-freakin hot!)

Currently Feeling: A little nervous to be writing for a site that gets ~2,000 hits a day. I'm SO shy about people reading my writing!
Currently Anticipating: Getting out of the house tonight for a drink with Amanda and out of the city tomorrow for a cabin-bound bachelorette party.
Currently Loving: Tanning. Must. Go. Again. Must. Get. Darker. Must. Feel. That. Glow.

Your Guide for Sunday Fun Days

Last week, I researched all-day Sunday Happy Hours for a friend who was taking a major test to become a dental hygienist. She wanted to celebrate after her test with a Sunday Fun Day, so I started to look up places in the city that offered a cheap, all-day drinking option. I thought I’d share the information with my fellow lushes:

Man Ray: The gay “video” bar on Capitol Hill has $1.50 beers and a free buffet for it’s Sunday patrons.

Lava Lounge: One of my favorite bars in Seattle, it’s located on 2nd Avenue, next to The Viceroy. The bar is so kitschy and eclectic, Amanda and I used to play I Spy while sitting at the bar. You could stare at shit for hours and still never see the same thing twice. Other games available—shuffleboard and Miss Pacman. (Patio.)

Contour: Yeah, so it’s a dance club. But, the Pioneer Square bar (next to Fado’s) has a super, super cheap Happy Hour from 2 to 8 p.m. on Sundays. They offer a $1.95 food menu, $2 Dos Equis and Tecate, and $3.50 well drinks. The menu is cheap, and extensive—chicken wings, hot wings, a cheeseburger, hummus and chicken skewers are just a few of the selections.



The Luau: Another close and personal favorite of mine. What is it with me and Tiki bars? Located in Tangletown, the bar’s Happy Hour is from 12 to 6 p.m. on Sunday. Click here for a menu. (Patio.)

Solo: A new bar on lower Queen Anne, I’ve yet to venture through its front doors. I’ve heard good things, but it hasn’t seemed to pick-up popularity, which is a plus for some of you. Happy Hour includes $2 beers and $2.50 well drinks.



Amber: Probably my least favorite on the list. The only time I’ve been there was for the opening night, and it was super pretentious, and the bar layout wasn’t patron friendly. I haven’t been back since, but the all-day Happy Hour might convince me once the weather gets nice. The $5 food menu looks fantastic. Click here to view. (Patio.)


Currently Feeling: Unproductive as all hell.
Currently Anticipating: My little sister spending the night tonight.
Currently Wanting: Nike iPod running shoes.

Self-Af-FIRM-ation

Is it just me, or are some of you starting to feel the bathing-suit-season-is-upon-us itch!? Recently, the sun has come out and it’s even starting to warm up a bit. Daylight-Savings has allowed for the sunlight to linger longer into the evening, and I’ve started having Memorial Day weekend conversations and plan-making with a few of my friends. All of which include a boat, bathing suits and drinking in the eastern Washington sun.

So now I’m starting to feel a little panicky. It won’t be long before we have to say goodbye to jeans, sweaters, jackets, and boots. I’ve already started pulling a Capri or two out of the closet and sprang for that tanning package last week. Inevitably, I’ve started checking myself out a little more in the mirror after showering…blech. Winter allows for us all to become a little soft. And I’m dreading try to firm myself back up again. Why can’t I just be one of the naturally lithe women? Damnit!

Ok, ok. Today marks the approximate two-month mark till Memorial Day. Hardly enough time to see the results I want, which means I need to start working out again, like yesterday.

I guess I’ll start this evening by pumping-up my ab ball and trying to do some sit-ups in front of America’s Next Top Model. I mean, that’s a start right?

Currently Feeling: Squishy but excited for the sun again!
Currently Anticipating: Being less squishy and seeing the sun again!
Currently Listening To: LCD Soundsystem and Fujiya & Miyagi—the two CDs I bought yesterday. SO good!

Here We Go Again...

Lucky Strikes: Season Three...

Wish us luck!

Bodies...The Exhibition

Wednesday night, Sarah and I braved the supposed onset of Snowstorm 2007 and ventured downtown for Bodies...The Exhibition. I’ve been dying (Ha. Ha) to check the exhibit out, given all the hubabaloo and controversy surrounding it. While it was supposed to be over in December, and I feared that I had missed the chance to look at the preserved Asian men, the exhibit now has been extended through April 1, 2007. So I finally got my chance.

Not gonna lie, I was a little nervous about what the exhibit was going to entail. A friend of mine had mentioned that it included baby fetuses that made his stomach turn. Now, I’m not much of a blood and guts kinda person. It all makes me want to puke my breakfast up. So, when I realized that I was about to spend an hour, willingly walking through an exhibit on the insides of our bodies, I wondered if I’d really lost it.

If you too have a weak stomach for gore, never fear. While the entire exhibit features real bodies that have been scientifically preserved and dissected, the still really just look like wax figures. Conclusion: it’s bearable for us weak-stomach types.

When observing the wax-like figures, it’s definitely the process that is the most fascinating. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that the tendons, muscles, and organs you are seeing are real. According to the official Bodies exhibit Web site, the human specimens are, “first preserved according to standard mortuary science. The specimen is then dissected to show whatever it is that someone wants to display. Once dissected, the specimen is immersed in acetone, which eliminates all body water. The specimen is then placed in a large bath of silicone, or polymer, and sealed in a vacuum chamber. Under vacuum, acetone leaves the body in the form of gas and the polymer replaces it, entering each cell and body tissue. A catalyst is then applied to the specimen, hardening it and completing the process.”

The bodies, on display with missing skin, exposed genitalia and other bodily organs, and sliced into cross-sectional pieces for our mere gawking pleasure, are created from a collection of more than 250 unclaimed Chinese men and women. The exhibit has become controversial, with one group of people shouting, “In the name of science!’ and the other claiming, “Violation! Human rights!” Whichever side you choose, Bodies is still worth seeing. Some could say, "Curiosity Killed the Cat."

I was more than curious while wandering through the exhibit’s nine rooms, each split into different bodily functions such as Nervous System, Circulatory, Reproductive, and perhaps the most interesting, the Fetal Development room. I found myself actually taking the time to read all of the signs on the different body parts, and enjoying the facts posted on the walls, such as “The total surface area of the alveoli (tiny air sacs in the lungs) is the size of a tennis court” and “Babies are born with 300 bones, but by adulthood we have only 206 in our bodies.” Thankfully, I was walking my way through the exhibit with all my 206 bones covered and still working.




The lighting throughout the exhibit is somewhat dim, allowing each human cadaver to illuminate and become the focus of each room. Next to each exposed body, is a sign indicating what you’re looking at by pointing out where the liver and stomach are, etc. A few details that surprised me the most…the entire nervous system basically sucked out of a body and lying on a table, what a fetus looks like when it develops a birth defect such as Spinal bifida or Anencephaly, and the appearance of a healthy lung vs. a smoker’s lung. (Yes. Jerks. The thought did cross my mind.) Sarah and I laughed like third graders at the balls, which weirdly hung lower than all the penises. Amazing and fascinating stuff if you ask me. One general theme seemed to follow us through each room though—How in the hell did they do that? It is definitely a scientific feat and not something you’d see everyday, so if you feel like you have the stomach for it, head down to 800 Pike Street and spring for the ticket. Trust me, it’s worth it.

B-I-N-G-O!

I’ve added a new week-time ritual to my repertoire—Bingo on Thursday nights. Frankly, I’m starting to scare myself…book club, bowling league, bingo…is anybody seeing a scary pattern here? Have I suddenly skipped from being super popular to being an Old Maid? Fuck, I’ve even purchased a cat.

Maybe I’m just figuring out early what it takes years for everyone else to realize—activities such as Bingo, Bridge, Bunko, and all other events that usually have “60-years-old and over” attached to them, are really the absolute best ways to spend any free time. God, I’m so progressive.

So, Bingo at Jabu’s on Thursdays has become the place to be. Formally 25-cent PBR night, the local Queen Anne dive has switched to now offering free bingo, starting at 8. That’s right, I said FREE! For the last couple weeks, I’ve met some college friends of mine, Brett and Angie, for an all night drinking and bingoing funfest. I know what you are all thinking; with Bingo comes the crazies. The lucky troll dolls, tokens, bingo daubers, rituals, etc. This isn’t quite like that kind of Bingo. It’s actually pretty low key; the Bingo boards are paper punch-outs, and there’s only four or five rounds with prizes such as Sonics or movie tickets. Plus, there are many, many pitchers of alcohol involved. I’m not sure why, but each week as the night progresses, the bingo caller seems to call things faster and it becomes way harder to keep up and check all four cards in front of me. Watch out for that.

Not only have I had a fun drunken time each week, but I’ve managed to learn a few things too:

Apparently there are still some people that think it’s funny to “fake” everyone out by calling Bingo early. Ever heard of the Little-Boy-Who-Cried-Wolf syndrome, bitches?

It’s really hard to eat dinner, play bingo and drink a beer while trying to sneak in bathroom and smoke breaks. I’m just going to attribute my success in pulling this off to a little talent of mine I like to call “multi-tasking.”

All sorts of Bingo rounds exist including the Bowtie, Post-It, Capital T, etc. How fun would it be to be a Bingo caller and create your own Bingo rounds? Someday…

Men have the ability to “pinch-off” their pee if reasons arise such as when the break is over and the Bingo caller has begun sounding out the numbers.

Calling out O-69 never gets old.

A whole subculture exists in Bingo,including Bingo-Offs if more than one winner exists, and a little thing I like to call Bingo-Lingo. This includes, saying “25-per” or “50 per,” every time a number is called, depending on the percentage of hits on your four cards.

Jabu’s has some pretty fucking damn good mac-n-cheese.

Bingo dauber paint is semi-permanent and doesn’t rub off one’s skin very easily. Learn from my friend Brett’s mistake below and don’t daub your face with bright blue paint the night before you have to be at work-sober.

Currently Feeling: Slight withdrawals, but better.
Currently Anticipating: The weekend's birthday festivities.
Currently Loving: Friends who know how to handle their alcohol.

GO LUCKY STRIKES!

Tonight is the final tournament night for The Lucky Strikes.
We managed to make it to the playoffs, even though half the time Butter Cream and Cheesecake were drunk, and Sizzle and Tootse could barely stay awake.
Unfortunately, we won’t be playing Nine-Pin tonight for 20+ free beers, but that’s probably a good thing since I drank my maximum in beers last night. However, maybe we’ll come out on top and will be able to sport new Underdog Bowling t-shirts.
Either way, I’m just excited to play Dance Dance Revolution.
D-D-R!!

Currently Feeling: Like I think I might die from back pain.
Currently Anticipating: Pyramid Snowcap party this weekend with the ladies.
Currently Loving: My karaoke serenade from Trebaby last night.