Tag Archives: exercise

Missing: My Metabolism

First of all, CALL OFF THE SEARCH PARTY! I’m alive! Are you guys? What the hell is going on? I miss my friends. Tonight we’re meeting at Bianca’s posh, new condo for some girl chat and if we feel up to walking up the street, Algebra’s band is playing at Urban Lounge. Mostly, I just need to see you guys. I’m coming over as soon as I get out of class.  Good? Good.

I’m just going to jump right in here because frankly I can’t think about anything else right now. So I don’t know about you girls, but I thought I was the sh*t in high school (I don’t know that I really was THE sh*t, but I believed it). Truly. I had a constant drip of self esteem oozing out of my ears, trailing off at the base of my too short cheerleading skirt.

Skinny bitch.

Even since high school graduation (June 2004, wtf), I feel like my self esteem as been trailing off. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still an only child and AM God’s gift to this earth, but still, not the same zazazoo I had at 16.

In order to recapture that same zazazoo or whatever, I’ve been trying to do some of the things that I was oh so passionate about as an adolescent. It hasn’t gone so well.

Exercising: Between the ages of 15-18 I was a high school cheerleader on a competitive squad (roll your eyes all you want, but bitches, we took Nationals). This would mean we had a class in high school (yes, you took math, I took cheer), early morning practices, late night Wednesday practices and football/basketball/whatever games 1-2 times a week. All during those times I was  jumping around, tumbling, stunting, running around in the boys locker room and painting banners. Then, at 9:00 every night my friend and I would go to the gym and work out (and then repeat again at 5:00am practice the next morning). I burned at least one hundred thousand calories a day. Now, at 25 with a job and grad school, how in the hell am I supposed to burn that many calories? I’m doing the best I can. I’ve started leaving my treadmill in running mode (not clothes storing mode) and I’ve traded in my desk chair for an exercise ball. On to the next one…

Very expensive laundry basket.

Food:  This isn’t even fair. I ate like crap until I graduated from college. If I tried eating like I did when I was a teen not only would I gain 40 pounds, but I’d probably drop dead of a heart attack. God, I hate my decade younger self.

Tanning: I loved me some UV rays in those younger days. I would go to two different tanning salons so I could go twice a day (because of that pesky 24 hour rule). Seriously. How am I not all wrinkly and covered in cancerous moles? In any event, this week I traded in my usual versa spa fake tan for some UV fake tan. (DRUM ROLL PLEASE….) I’m the color of a freaking tomato.

So. My quest to reclaim my former self esteem isn’t going so well, but maybe I’m on the right track. Maybe a little more putting me and the things I like to do first and everything else second will prove to be a nice little change for a bit.

Gym, tanning, cheerleading, boys,
BridgeyPooPoo

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SWF Seeks PR Job: work from bed, drinks anytime & unlimited vacation a must

Bianca and Bridget,

Greetings from my bed. It’s 2pm and I’m feeling semi-depressed about not having anything what-so-ever to accomplish today until 7pm when I go to my workout class. <Insert tear here.> In other words, I need to start seriously looking for a job. I thought it would feel great not working for at least 2 months after slaving away for 11-12 hours a day for the last 3 years… but I was wrong. I miss slave labor.

So ladies, it’s week eight of being unemployed and now it’s time for Bailey to become an employed publicist once again. So far the little effort I have put into this has produced little results. I know there are great PR jobs in this place and my first tactic was to stalk the companies that I would love to work for. However it’s amazing how rude and unprofessional people in the workforce can be. Case in point – someone telling me that “You’ve got the job!”…fast forward a month later, I am *67ing their cell phones in order to get an answer.  Lady, I don’t give a damn if I don’t have the job, just find the balls to tell me that in some fashion (any fashion), which I have given her multiple chances over email and phone and morris code and smoke signals…

Now that I am ready to get back in to the habit of working long hours and living for my weekends, how do I go about this search? Employed friends, I need help. I am constantly indeed.com-ing, looking on ksl.com, Craigslist, EVEN Facebook, but really. How do I find this dream job that I know exists? I want to work in an industry I’m passionate about (which is many many things), for a company I believe in (which is obvious, I’m not looking to go work for George Sr.), with nice people (who return phone calls) and in a fun environment (office happy hour preferred) – is that so much to ask?

I’d love to set up an interview and look forward to showing you how I can be an asset to your posse,

Bailey

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Cheeseburger Couch

Dearest Bridget,

Good afternoon! How is your day going, my friend? Mine is a Typical Tuesday: eating chocolate cake at my desk while editing ad copy. Lately I have been acting as if I am one of those people with a killer metabolism who can eat whatever they want. Only problem is, I’m not one of those people. I should be eating carrot sticks instead of carrot cake.

Whenever I’m feeling lazy, I always convince myself that I deserve it. I’ll pack my running shoes or yoga outfit to work so I can go straight to exercising when I’m off, but sometimes I just want to drive through Micky D’s and go home and eat it on my couch instead. I get away with it because I convince myself that I had a hard day, or I didn’t get my 8 hours of sleep last night, or I stubbed my toe earlier, so I deserve this cheeseburger and couch and maybe ice cream if I’m lucky enough to have it in the freezer (because lord knows I am waaaay too entitled to get off the couch and go to the store). What the hell is wrong with me, I don’t deserve any of those things. I deserve to get my ass to the gym and do some crunches. I’m going to ball park this and say that I “deserve” the cheeseburger couch about 60% of the time. That is so embarrassing to actually say out loud! Say it with me, “I skip out on exercising 60% of the time.”… Holy sh*t.

Well at least I’m admitting it. The first step is admitting that you have a problem, right? What’s the next step? (Hold on, I’m looking it up…) OK, Step 2: “A power greater than myself can restore me to sanity.” Seriously? Doesn’t that take the accountability away from the addict? Whatever, I’m not the expert, Wikipedia is. I’m going with this… A power greater than myself. Hmm. How about my running shoes! My running shoes can restore me to sanity! Too bad I didn’t bring them to work today because I “deserved” to sleep in this a.m. Ugh, I’m not off to a very good start. OK, My running shoes are going to restore me to sanity…

Yeah, I don’t know if this is really going to work for me, but I’ll let you know how it goes. I just hope my running shoes are louder than my alarm clock, because if they’re not I’m out of luck.

I hope you have a wonderful day with your 4th grade hoodlums.

Writing to you from Couchaholics Anonymous,
Bianca.

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