Showing posts with label Men verses Women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Men verses Women. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!!!

Ok, it’s actually beginning to look a lot like laundry day at my house but that is the reason I have been skipping around singing ‘O Holy Night’ in my best Amy Grant voice impersonation and let me tell you it’s not pretty unless I have shower acoustics to help.  So, I was getting dressed for work this morning and as I slipped on my Santa Claus thong I came to a stunning realization…I have an unhealthy amount of Christmas underwear.  UNDER-ROOS.  BUNDERWEAR.  FANCY PANTS.  Whatever you call them, I have at least 75 pairs with a Christmas/Holiday/Winter theme going on and I am not going to lie, I love it!  Here is the bigger question though, why am I so drawn to Holiday underwear?  And why only that Holiday?  Could it be due to the fact that it is a rarity to see Labor Day or Easter underwear?  What, no Turkey themed underwear? Gooble, Gooble? A Sexy Pilgrim Pin-Up Girl? RIGHT, CAUSE THAT’S WEIRD!!!  But throw Turkey’s distant relative Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on there and I’ll take a package of 3 please.  Someone hit the marketing jackpot with Christmas themed underwear.  So much so that they even have it for men.  Usually men could care less about their undergarments as long as their hiney’s are covered.  I mean, Boyfriend wears boxers that are one quality step up from a brown paper bag  which is most likely due to the fact that they come in a pack of 25 and only cost $5.  But, wait, even MEN sport the Christmas drawers!  ”Jingle these Bells!”  Who doesn’t love that?  So as retail stores begin to prepare for the holiday and thoughts of sugar plums dance in children’s heads, know that my chunky butt is dancing around in Christmas themed bundies too. 

According to my calculations, it’s 88 days until Christmas and I have 75 pairs of Holiday underwear so, I have 2 choices:

1. Do 2 loads of needed laundry in the next 88 days or
2. Buy 13 more pairs of Christmas undies. 

I think we all know the answer to that.  Tis’ the Season!!!

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Let's get Physical, physical....

I have just come to the absolute scariest realization of my life. Brace yourself because this is going to stun you as much as it stunned me…Boyfriend and I weigh the same amount!! I KNOW! Which means that if we were to both compete in a wrestling competition, we would most likely wrestle each other since we are in the same weight class. I am disgusted with myself. Boyfriend has always been a consistent gym rat and about 9 months ago he decided to get serious with his diet (please note he did not have a ton of weight to lose) and so I suggested WW. A diet so powerful all you need to say is the initials…that’s right…WW…Weight Watchers. In fact, it’s not a diet, it’s a lifestyle. I know this because I have been to the meetings. And it works, it really works if you stick to your points. I got serious about 4 years ago, pre-Boyfriend and lost 25 lbs…well somehow those 25 pounds found me and brought 10 of their friends back with them. Boyfriend looks amazing and I look not so amazing. So I decided to get serious. Last Friday I hopped on my electronic talking scale and it immediately said “ONE AT A TIME PLEASE”. I knew at that moment that this weight loss journey was going to be a lot more difficult than I expected so I needed to make a plan.

First item on the agenda, cancel my gym membership. Hahaha. I know you are laughing and I have to laugh here too, I know it sounds ridiculous but what is even more ridiculous is the fact that I pay for this monthly membership and honestly cannot remember the last time I was there. I like to think of it as my way of ensuring the gym is suitable for all those avid gym goers like Boyfriend…they need money to pay those employees and my monthly membership fee helps this cause. I am a good Samaritan. Back to business, the problem with my gym is that it is about 20 minutes away from my house and not on the way home. I already spend most of my day commuting to my sucky job and since working out seems in itself a second sucky job, why would I want to endure that extra commute? I prefer to sit on the couch, drink a glass(es) of wine and watch fatter people lose weight on shows like the Biggest Loser. Ahhhh the comfort of my couch. See? My logic is wayyyyyyy off I know, but you do not get this size without knowing the exact number of minutes you have to get to the kitchen and back before the commercial break ends. So, we are canceling the gym membership to join once closer to my house. 5 minutes away to be exact. No more excuses. The icing on the cake…this new gym has a pool and I decided that I am going to swim away these pounds and if that doesn’t work then I hope moo-moo’s and leggings stay in fashion.

Second item on the agenda was to get rid of everything that I know I shouldn’t be eating and drinking in my new lifestyle. With that said, I apologize for not blogging the last few days, but it is very time consuming to drink every bottle of wine in the house, eat 2 tubs of French onion dip & chips, crab-stuffed shrimp and half a chocolate cake washed down with a few mimosas. It was a holiday weekend people, do not judge me. Everyone knows the cardinal rule of dieting is that you do not start a diet on the weekend and you most certainly do not every start it over the holidays. Besides, I could not let all that deliciousness go to waste. It was like the last supper for me, only it lasted approximately 3 days.

So here I am. Current weight = same as boyfriend’s. Current wardrobe = a weapon, since at any moment the button on every pair of pants I own could pop off, fly across the room and take someone out. Current issue = I am wearing a dress today and my thighs are rubbing together so bad that I have a Stage 4 rug burn and I am contemplating peeing in my pants to avoid the walk across the office to the bathroom.

Wish me luck and please warn the wine industry that their stock is about to drop. Game on thunder thighs.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Ready? NO! Set? NO! FLUSH!!

I am all about convenience…who isn’t these days? I enjoy a lovely drive-thru Starbucks, Dunkin Donuts or any Fast Food joint for that matter, Online shopping, Drive-thru Pharmacy, Dry-cleaning delivery, and even Take-Out Taxi! You essentially never have to get off your ass unless you need to use the restroom. Glorious. And the News tried to worry me about sky-rocketing childhood obesity. Why in the world would they think that? So while all these things make our lives lazier, I mean easier, I have a bone to pick with one invention that will never get my seal of approval.

I have a great hatred and admitted fear of automatic flushing toilets. Was there a huge issue with people not remembering to flush the toilet? I mean, doesn’t everyone these days have a toilet in their house that they flush after use? Just checking. My battle with the auto-toilet occurs on a daily basis. Auto soap dispenser? Genius. Auto faucet? Absolutely!! I mean, how would I turn on the faucet if I had soap on my hands? Auto Paper Towel dispenser? They have thought if it all…keep my hands as sanitary as possible post-wash. All of these things make my bathroom experience so much more enjoyable. Bravo Inventers!! Job well done. Here poses my dilemma…logically in a family of automated machines it only makes sense that you add the big boy auto-flusher to the pack. I understand people, but someone dropped the engineering ball when they invented the auto-flush. It was probably invented by the guy who hated his job and went out drinking every night only to find out one hung-over morning that he had to present his auto-flusher to the board! He clearly wasn’t ready so he threw it together and didn’t have time for the testing phase! I get it buddy and I feel your pain, but you skipped some crucial steps and could take a few pointers from your faucet, towel and soap buddies. Here we are dancing in front of the sensor to get the water to turn on and waving like an idiot at the paper towel dispenser to release more than 2 inches of towel at a time. BUT, BUT, as soon as you make even the slightest movement of your body or worse you dare reach for toilet paper…FLUSH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don’t even get me started when it happens as soon as you sit down!! I want to scream out “Nooooooooo! I haven’t done anything yet? Why the flush?!?!” And it is no light flush. It is a high-powered, whirlpool eruption that could lift even the largest of hineys off the toilet had the blasting sound of the auto-flush engine starting not prepared you to brace yourself. Hold on tight ladies, you are about to take a wild ride free of charge. What is it a freakin Hemi engine under the floor?!? Regardless, the bottom line is that I GET TO DECIDE WHEN I AM READY TO FLUSH! ME! I am a big girl and I’m using the big girl potty and I will let you know when I am done and then you can do your magic flushing thing. Sometimes, on the rarest of occasions if I am lucky enough to get up and get my drawers back on, I find myself throwing my body against the locked stall door in fear that the back splash will hit me. Classy.

So there you have it, my hatred and fear of the auto-flush. You won that round toilet, you won that round.