Archive for the ‘shopping’ Category

I never really wrote a bio for my Word Press account so here is a quick summary.

2013-12-03 13.00.09

I do not like to talk on the phone. I express myself best through words. Yes that means my texts and emails are cumbersome and thesis ridden and I over explain the crap out of everything. This doesn’t mean I don’t talk on the phone or have fabulous conversations , it’s jut not my go-to activity. I express myself best when I am writing.  I get tongue tied in conversations and if it’s public speaking, I sweat so profusely, I could probably sell it as a weight loss product like those wrap things.  I have a picture but I am not sure if I am ballsy enough to show the armpit Armageddon that occurred on my bright orange shirt after “public speaking”.

I love hip hop all kinds, preferably more old school , something with a good beat and devoid of incessant degradation. Unfortunately, most people that do not actually listen to hip hop think that all hip hop is degrading and full of debauchery and sin. Yes, some of the main stream songs , can be quite dreadful and that is unfortunate, but we live in a complex world.   I actually do quite like the song Rack City. Yes, it’s about Strip clubs and yes I listen to it while I’m running and it makes me run faster. I will add I do listen to the clean version so Pearly Gate Gold Star for me! (I do not know why I capitalized that , but I also LOVE and ADORE Joel Osteen, so I’m a bit of an oxymoron at times..I even hear him saying “Oh Lori, (bc he wouldn’t say it Laurie being from Texas and all) “we are all Gods Children and he loves you so and wants the best for you”…. and he would kind of close his eyes when he’s talking to me, if you haven’t seen him preach, It’s pretty cool. I like him. He preaches about hope versus telling the congregation they are going to burn in Hell if they do not donate their life savings or listen to songs like Rack City.  *

I am sensitive, passionate , and I have zero directional sense. I mean ZERO> . If I was told I had to make my living via post office routes or bus drive, we would all starve, and your mail and children would be in Siberia.   If you look at me wrong, I may try to process why you looked at me wrong for longer amounts of time than a normal person would process as to why you looked at me wrong.  If we venture into “hot topic” land, I do see red on three items, unsolicited advice about my family or child rearing ways, political righteousness, and passive aggressiveness.  Yes, I have parenting flaws,  I am not political ( I have ZERO desire to talk about politics, unless it’s with Jon Stewart or Stephen Colbert) and I have I have ZERO TIME to try and figure what your pout-ridden-passive aggressive comment means to me.  Luckily most of my close knit friends are up front and honest or just love me so much they never have any issues with me. L.O.L.  **

I abhor horror movies; especially about the devil, but I love Zombie Apocalypse genre and I am a huge fan of the Walking Dead. I love the scenery, the cinematography, the artistry, the plot twists and wondering how the lawns stay mowed during an Apocalypse,   T Dawg was my favorite, then Hershel, and now Darryl. Unfortunately in an Apocalypse, they like to kill  the favorites.  One day I would most definitely like to play a Zombie, preferably in the Walking Dead but I haven’t quite got the voice raspy thing down yet.  Yes, I am practicing right now.   My other favorite horror genre is old movie horror genre, no guts & brains though (oxymoron!)  specifically movies like “The Birds”. I  liked it because I loved saying “Bodega Bay” like the actresses in the movie, they made smoking  fabulous and owned wicked smart suits and exquisitely coiffed hair.  (no I don’t smoke but I did and I get it.)

I love a change of seasons, books, shows and movies that make me cry and laugh from my soul, my family (I know cliche but I would be remiss if I did not mention my fams), good food (I like healthy food but if it tastes like the twigs and the earth, I cannot do it), home baked goods from a bakery that uses five ingredients at most,   the smell of coffee in the morning, lawn mowers in the summer, intense thunderstorms,young people with their drop tops and loud music, screaming Beyonce songs in the car till my voice hurts, alone time, AND some social time (I have to be balanced in this category or I will go nuts) .    I am NEVER bored. When people say they are bored, they need to vacation in my head. Luckily, my kids rarely say it, so I must be doing something right…

Lastly, but not least, I LOVE comedy. Without laughter , I could not survive. It saved me.  My teenage years were tumultuous and The Cosby Show got me through some of my roughest times.   I had horrific post par-tum psychosis after my first born and The Kings of Comedy was on re-run for 3 months straight while I climbed out of some of my darkest days. My sister told me “You have lost your sense of humor” when I was an anorexic runner in my twenties and that statement propelled me in to recovery (and the fear of dying..) Ok!, I know! this is supposed to be somewhat humorous but I am trying to demonstrate how humor help catapult me out of depression and malady.

This is a snip it of me.  Thanks for reading, I have nothing witty to close with because my kids just got off the bus and I just heard “MY EYE MY EYE MY EYE YOU POKED ME IN MY EYE IT HURTS…”

* Rack City Footnote: Seriously,  what’s super funny, is someone did  a parody on it and it was called Math City, well you really have to listen to the song to appreciate why this is so funny. So when I listen to Rack City, I almost get the giggles so bad, I have to stop running.  Interval training tactics? …. And if you listen to the song and hate it, don’t blame me, I didn’t write it.  If I did, I’d be on Island Hunters , buying up some Islands and blogging about being on Island Hunters and owning Islands so we would not be having this conversation in my head.

** Diabolically, I used to be passive aggressive with hubs in earlier years. He shuts that mess down quick.

First off, I’d like to say, or apologize to my three followers, wait maybe it’s two, I’m sorry it takes me so long to get another blog posted, and I’m not minimizing the amount I appreciate YOU.  I do write a lot, but it’s on stickies, journals, notepads and the whole process of getting it put into computer is one that does get lost in the shuffle of my ADHD mind and life.  I’m NOT complaining, and I will aim to do better.  I had a laptop but for all you parents of ‘younins’ out there, Minecraft stole it’s heart and  soul and crucified the “heart” drive into a withering mess that even the boys at Geek squad cried a little when I took it in to be “fixed”.  Yes I mean heart drive.  (Hence why Geek Squad rejected my application of employment.)

This topic has been on my brain ever since I stopped teaching fitness classes and decided to stop paying the fee to be a health/wellness Coach.*  It’s not like I woke up one morning and said “I AM DONE”. Decision making was something I generally scored as average or as my husband might say “Good GOSH Grapes woman, make up your mind!” OK OK, He doesn’t say Grapes, I’m not sure he said Gosh either. Maybe sometimes there could be an expletive in this sentence because, I usually go to him with all my decision making conundrums, which come up frequently.   Stay tuned, because I will have some blogs that outline some of the fabulous “notes” I have written him when my feelings were “hurt”. Usually those notes end up by the coffee pot.  They are fun. really fun.

It all started when I I joined a rather large gym and took this sassy, funky, kickboxing class.  I fell in love with the first “jab cross pound pound” to some heart thumping – Lil Jon- club-remix;  where, I felt like I was at the club, but in actuality my babies were in day care and I had my Umbros on (yes I think I wore Umbros from college when I started going back to the gym, don’t worry all you fashionable gym people, I upgraded my wardrobe a tad as the years wore on, insert cute winking smiley face here). Also no one was vomiting in the bathroom from too many Hagar (sp?)  shots or my wedges weren’t sticking to the floor of sloshed Budweiser.  All the club music fun without having to soak your clothes in tide for a week.  Well, if you sweat as much as I do (apparently to the point where it causes medical concern, that comes up later in the blog :)) , you might have to soak your workout clothes in tide, just no club “stench” to overcome.

I had arrived. I was officially a bad ass. I was a dancing fighter.  Usher meets Million dollar Baby. Michael Jackson meets Missy Elliot meets J Lo from the movie ENOUGH.  I simply did not give a french fry if I was burning off french fries or if I was working out my “abs”.  It was SO FREEING. I was having a freaking blast and I really felt “okay” for the first time since there were 5000 people looking at my “hootie hoo-hoo-haw” because my first child decided he was going to hang out for a bit…. and my obstetrician look like John Stossel. So um yeah that.   Also, let’s just say  I DID NOT EXCEL AT ALL at new mommy-hood.  Like we are talking D minus, minus. I blame the fact that my parents didn’t have more babies for me to practice nor did I have enough babysitting jobs with little babies.  It’s really all their fault. (insert facetious-ism, seriously, some people think I’m being serious when I’m being diabolically ironic.)   More on that topic way later, Maybe another blog.

I felt like I had entered into some kind of “West Side story/Micheal Jackson Thriller-I’M BAD” remix video while I was kicking some serious “bootie.”  It actually was not “dance” per say, it choreographed in a way that punches synchronized so succinctly with every heart thumping bass , I literally felt I was inside the MATRIX of kickboxing and Lawrence Fishborne had me “downloaded” into some Jiu-Jitsu-Lil-Jon-Dub-Step-ReMix. I do not think I ever told the instructor this, but there were several times I started crying in her class (tears of joy) because of all the incredibly motivational cues she we would shout out during class.  I did  not turn into a blubbering post menopausal mess, I got choked up because I was so freaking inspired and I simply did not feel like I was at “the gym”.    She would say things like “You got up and got out of bed and You are here!!! be proud of yourself”  or “You aren’t here to just change the outside of your body you are here to change your body from the inside out.” I’m paraphrasing due to the fact that it was several years ago.  The bottom line is, she made me feel like I was exercising for the right reasons. “What the eff does “exercising for the right reasons mean???? Laurie Jane??”   Please, hang with me…this might be one of my longer blogs but it’s worth it because hopefully it will make you laugh and possibly alleviate stress in your life if you are struggling with a decision.

I had a tremendous amount of guilt with my membership because I did not work AND I  felt like I didn’t deserve it as a “stay at home mom”.  Looking back, I had severe post par-tum delusions after my first child, and mildly depressed after my second, I actually was just depressed. I hate typing that out because most of the world thinks that shit is controllable and it’s mind over matter. If you do think that depression can be controlled by just flipping a switch, please do more research.   I digress, the POINT I AM TRYING TO MAKE,  Is this instructor alleviated the insane, ridiculous guilt  I felt from going to the  FREAKING GYM! (I’m just not a the point where I can drop the actual f bomb in my blogs. A lot of successful bloggers let it all out…again I blame “others” for this..(diabolically ironic!!)  I’m still wondering if “shit” is too much…but I’ll edit later. Maybe).

Fast forward a couple years, taking a variety of classes, with this particular class and mixed martial arts classes being something I was drawn to on a consistent basis, I decided that I wanted to become a fitness instructor.  Yeah I know. At that time, I was 38.  I do not know what I was thinking either.  This was the best and worst decision I had made at that time.  How can that be?  It was the best decision because I truly learned how to perform a task that I did not possess natural skills to perform on a consistent basis.  I may have excelled at taking fabulous classes at a gym, but TEACHING fitness classes was almost the antithesis of taking them,  and I had to go through this process to figure out it was not something that pulled from my natural strengths and abilities.  I am not saying that you should shy away from difficult tasks, ignore your weaknesses or avoid putting yourself out of your comfort zone.  I am saying that if you are so far out of your comfort zone it is negatively affecting every aspect of your life, you may want to rethink the journey or path  you have embarked upon.

To elaborate upon it being the best decision in my life.  I learned SO MUCH about myself, the fitness “world” and how I interacted with other people. and MOST IMPORTANTLY I have a new found respect for Beyonce.  We besties now. “Hi B!!!” –  Beyonce, can move in ways that I would end up in the Emergency room if I attempted, and SING, like really SING from the vast recesses of her lungs ~WHILE-  AT THE SAME TIME – NOT LOOK TIRED.  I was say things like “punch jab punch punch kick jab etc”, while performing as said such tasks (not even singing like my bestie Beyonce or  ‘bootie’ maneuvering in any way shape or form) and would be so exhausted and “HANGRY” by the end of class, I would almost fall into my food at night.  To illustrate my “not looking tired point above”….. I had a participant ask me one day  if I was “Okay” and look deeply concerned for my overall well-being.    She recommended I get my thyroid checked because I was literally drenched in sweat and could barely speak after class.  This was kind of my first clue that maybe the outer Pluto rings of my comfort zone was not necessarily the best place for this 40 something Mom of two high spirited children and one very busy working husband.   Next time you go to class and you think the instructor doesn’t appear to be working hard enough, or start to get all critical,  think really long and hard before you give feedback. I use to run crazy 90 degree hill trail races in college and even got trophies for it, okay it was a small college, BUT STILL. I thought I was in damn good shape and it kicked my ass.  So I learned a TON about learning something from scratch and the black hole space that comes after your comfort zone. Insert Winking smiley face jumping emoticon here.

As for it being the worst decision, maybe that’s unfair terminology for myself; yet, there were many times I was in self inflicted tears of frustration because I never felt “good enough” or that I measured up to my counterparts.    I guess I should have known better with my eating disordered past that I was not as tough as I thought I was in deflecting the ‘self obsessiveness’ that the industry as a whole seem to manifest upon my psyche. I thought I could shut those voices down but inevitably the cons started to outweigh the pros.    As a competitive runner, it completely consumed me and I suffered health consequences from malnutrition and electrolyte unbalance and heat exhaustion because I did not have enough fat on my body to properly function and cool myself. Huh, Maybe that’s why I sweat so much now. Anyhow,  Sounds dramatic, but true and it will be in my memoirs..  Henceforth, so on and so forth,  I felt like at every twist and turn I had to monitor what I put in my body , I was over training,  and it was negatively affecting myself and my family.

As a caveat to my career in fitness I decided to become a “Health Coach” and used   Multi-level Marketing fitness shakes and DVDS  as an adjunct to promote this way of life.   I know it does not take a rocket scientist to figure out which company I chose to align with ; however, there are currently a
“Bandunkadunk” amount of these companies.   It’s not important because the company itself had nothing to do with my decision to stop participating in this field.   However, the somewhat convoluted and  pervasive “online coaching atmosphere” of SOME of the Coaches,  in SOME of these companies, (not just the one I was apart of) did have something to do with my decision. I have re-written this section like six times. The first time I wrote it, I ended up sounding like Lewis Black on the Jon Stewart show and I have been told that extreme sarcasm comes over quite poorly, unless it’s delivered by Lewis Black himself.

Instead of providing a  montage of all the things that grated my nerves like tweezers on a chalkboard, slowly and screechy, (I’m sorry¿ was that image bothersome?) I will try to summarize in one small paragraph without sounding indignant.( Fun Fact here, I was going to use the word resentful,  but I feel as thought it’s overused.  Anyhow, I go-ogled the synonyms for resentful and low and behold the FIRST Google search that “popped up” was “resentful Beyonce”  What???  Who is resentful at my BFF??? and how can anyone be resentful at the woman who masterminded the song that every man, woman and child is screaming  at the top of their lungs in their car  (……..boyimdrankin…..grindinupindatclub..surfboardgraininondatwoooooddd) ……My apologies to your boss if  you are reading this at work and just played Drunk In Love in your office and tried to “twerk”.

I digress. Seriously girlfriend,  Beyonce!!! Stop infiltrating my thoughts with your naughty music.  I became disenchanted with the MLM fitness entity because quite simply, it was not my scene. I did not feel comfortable displaying before and after pictures of my stomach or my arms or my saddlebags or whatever body part I incessantly felt like I needed to “Fix”.**  I was tired of being asked to do a “cleanse”  or a “challenge” when quite frankly, all they did for me was made me feel like sleeping OR I wanted to rob a bakery, and then I felt guilty because I was starving. Whe I did the cleanse and was told it was a highly caloric cleanse (1500 calories?) and I shouldn’t be feeling hungry.   I NEVER EVER felt like being moderately healthy  was enough and I ended running around all wide eyed and freaked out because “OMG I did too much cardio and not enough strength or I hadn’t learned the hollow back handstand and OMG LAURIE why aren’t you more flexible you really need to focus on that what’s wrong with you???.”

My brain had become a level 10 roller coaster of negative health thoughts.   I felt like I was eating too much and I should be constantly tracking my calories and my calorie burn.  I was constantly striving to be in smaller pants or have bigger biceps but not too big just big enough to look a certain way and this swirling mass of disenchanted thoughts HAD TO STOP.  Yes the problem absolutely became MY problem and it was turning me into an obsessive health freak that had banned “cheezits” from the house.  I DID NOT WANT TO BE THAT PERSON.

Some of you might ask, why couldn’t you have stayed in the health and fitness/mlm “thangy thing” and stayed moderate and balanced.    I could not because  my career choice HAD BECOME the gasoline to the fire for  obsessive, extreme behavior.  I also did feel like there were fitness leaders in that particular industry that sent a somewhat obsessive message (IN MY OPINION) and I just did not want to be a part of that culture any longer. AGAIN,THIS IS MY OPINION.   Some of you that read this might be saying I’m a “hater”, but really it’s not that, I applaud the athletes who have overcome giant obstacles to be leaders in this very complex and growing industry. I just chose to distance myself from the message that I did not agree with on a daily basis. I am not going to give examples, but if you are curious,  Google leaders in an fitness industry and follow them for a bit, you may feel undoubtedly and incredibly inspired, I want you to to make up your own opinion if they send a balanced message or one that promotes unrealistic body image expectations.   I do not blame anyone else and take full accountability that this industry was a dangerous place for me to rest my career laurels upon on a day in and day out basis.

In closing, I would not trade the short (but eventful!) stint I had as a fitness professional? (OMG, am I officially retired, if so where my pension be hiding???? ) Seriously  the best way I can surmise this blog is with a quote I had written on my social media account in January. “I’m SO grateful that I became some of the things I was. To truly realize who I AM.. who I am NOT. and who I can BECOME.” (LJF) Sometimes you have to go through it, in it, do it, see it, be it,  to realize that you do not want to be “it”.

*mlm fitness shakes & videos, I’m not going to go all into brand-name etc, because well I’m just not..I tend to over explain and I seriously do not want to lose you on some needless drivel

**I’m NOT  disrespecting ANYONE that does show before after pictures etc, it simply made me uncomfortable in a way that was not needed for ME.

To know me is to love me. Or strongly dislike me. I’m like a hot cup of coffee on a hot day. Hence the name Scrappie-Momma.  Where did I get this name from? No, I do not scrap book.  I tried and you want to know how much I completed? One page out of a 500 page book my darling husband bought for me after I declared “Oh Honey I can’t WAIT to stay home with the new baby and scrapbook, cook novella cuisine dinners for you nightly  and who knows maybe I’ll even start gardening or something really domestic.”  You see, I had just signed a generous severance package from a bank I was working at as a Human Resource manager and hubs was a little nervous about what was going to happen after that severance ran out and I was all comfy and cozy with new baby and my fabulous scrap book creations. Clearly we will be able to survive on my crafty “craftmanship” scrapbook creations won’t we?  That story to be told another day..  He said one of the reasons he fell in love with me was because he thought I was going to be a high powered executive in Human Resources. Oops.

Okay, so now you know Scrappie does not come from scrap-booking.  Do you remember the show Friends? Well there was an episode when Phoebe told Monica she was Scrappie or Scrappy (the spell check thingy majiggy keeps saying scrappie is misspelled. whatevs, now this whole sentence is underlined in red..) Anyways, Phoebe told Monica she was Scrappie because Monica “scrapped” her way back in to Phoebes life after Phoebes decided she did not like her! Well that’s kind of me in a nutshell. If I like you and you do not care for my presence, hang around, because I will warm your soul like a hot cup of coffee. You just might need to wait for it to get cold outside (or go into a well air conditioned building) before you actually enjoy my presence.

Today was a typical Scrappie-Momma type of day.  I tend to run about 6-8 minutes behind schedule, I am not usually “late” but because of my ability to navigate this fake,extra-time sequence in to all my clocks, and tell myself “oh I have an extra 6-8 minutes” , I’m usually hurriedly completing easy tasks in a frantic fashion.  For instance, I have thick hair. No thick is an understatement. I have hair that could be used to make a chain link fence. I could shield bullets with my helmet of hair. I have had it thinned and feathered but it just grows back in thicker and I then I have a thick, overgrown mullet.  Ask any hair dresser who has cut my hair they have all exclaimed “DAMN you have a lot of hair,  I didn’t realize how thick your  hair was, wow, we might need a few more minutes with your next appointment.”  OK, maybe they didn’t say Damn, but I can tell from their expression they want to and they also want to charge me more for dulling their scissors with my chain-link metal hair.

My point being, I was running late and I was trying to get 4 big chunky necklaces around my neck (CHUNKY CLUNKY jewels are IN my FRIENDS, and Friends from Friends too.) and they all got caught in the chain-links of my hair. I broke one and managed to get two off, but they are mangled and tangled together sitting on my husbands side of the sink for him to fix , after he gets home from a long trip because that was what he was longing to do, after sitting on a plane, and in Atlanta traffic for five hours.  Seriously, how does one BREAK  a necklace in her hair?  Me. due in part because I have mutant-Ly thick hair and due in part because I built in 6-8 minutes of time that never existed in the first place. Typical Scrappie or Scrappy or Crappy behavior.

I made it to my destination a few minutes late but not absurdly late, and my day started to even out time-wise; however, the rush of adrenaline from fighting with my chain-link-helmet-sheild hair or from the 650 cups of coffee, fueled me into wide-eyed Scrappie Momma mode.  So I pulled out of a parking lot and admittedly even thought I did glance to the right,  I didn’t see the Prius honking it’s horn of justice , no scratch that, laying ON THE HORN for 30 seconds straight,  with I think both middle fingers stuck out the window because I had inadvertently cut him/her off. I could not tell the gender because the face was blocked by the affectionate traffic gestures of love. Maybe I was his/her Valentines?  I’m not, by any means, condoning my driving skills and I want to apologize to the man/women I cut off, It was NOT intentional.  My helmet hair got in the way of my peripherals.

Lastly, I made a stop at TJMAXX Home-Goods because we are re-decorating my sons room and I thought what the heck , they might have some distressed antique /industrial looking furniture that , ok , ok momma really wants and almost tween son could give two shakes of a lamb tale about.  I could bring home old hospital furniture and he’d be like “sup” “looks good moms”.  Anyways as I was frantically taking pictures (and Texting to my husband who was in a car with his boss) of all the AMAZING DEALS on SOLID WOOD vintage-couture-industrial-shabby-chic-antique pieces that now I was kind of salivating because I was thinking “Hey this might look great in the ……..”  I bumped into someone and my Starbucks Soy Latte splashed all over another piece of furniture (do not worry it was not one of the pieces I wanted for my son/living/tea/guest room. Phew.

I am not a person who splashes and doesn’t tell so I did run to the front to alert the very disenchanted staff and management who then proceed to call “Josh” over the paging system:  “WE HAVE A CLEAN UP IN THE BACK. SOME LADY SPILLED HER STARBUCKS.”  Josh and his attending (I’m not kidding, he had an assistant ) came rushing to my assistance. Thankfully , the splash was still “active” and my latte was made with organic soy milk so, like it was  Vegan, Paleo, Atkins, South Beach and Nutrisystem approved  AND  gluten/pesticide free; therefore it did not harm the furniture. Josh, myself and his attending were all very relieved that I did not scar the cute little end table from Morocco.

In closing, the collateral damage and klutzy sins of Scrappie Momma was atoned for.  I said a quick “I’m sorry God I will really try to pay more attention when I am driving and I do have a big ‘no Texting’ sticky note on my dashboard, so please let Jesus know that I do have that sign on my dashboard and I do refer to it quite a bit.”   Although I wasn’t Texting (omg texting isn’t a word yet??, it’s coming up RED as misspelled…) at the time of the Prius-Valentine-Rendevouz- I just hadn’t clipped my helmet back enough.  But no excuses, I will do better.  Finally, an apology to Josh, and his attending for quickly rushing in to clean up the remnants  of my sweet & salty soy latte.  I have to admit , I was in mourning the loss of the rest of my latte because that was the frothiest soy latte I had had in a long time.

Starbucks tomorrow? I promise, I will look both ways before turning out onto the street and I will not bring my frothy delight-fulness into any home goods or boutiques.  Peace and Happy Early Valentines Day!