Awkward Truths

My bangs oft resemble a bowl cut. OFT.

While driving home from the airport with my windows down, I was sprayed by a skunk. While driving. In a car. As politely as she could, my Grandma demanded I go take a shower.

I walk around with my skirt tucked up in my pantyhose, like...a lot. It should be noted that my coworkers are typically male and awkward and blush when i so much as put on mascara in the car. i expect they'll let me walk around with my skirt all up all day, so long as they don't have to make eye contact.

Finding earwax in your earbuds. You know.

In a heroic effort to stand up during a particularly rigorous 2 minutes of spin class, my knees buckled and i fell down, clinging to the handlebars of my stationary bike.

Unfortunately yoga didn't go much better - where running = yoga: 

via running is impossible

just a lot of laying around and trying to ignore the stupid teacher who won't stop teaching and wants even the most hopeless of cases to succeed when all Hopeless Case wants to do is nap and good lord if the 74 year old man next to me can do a half-crescent moon then what am i doing with my life

I am mad obsessed with the Cosby Show. It's kind of all-consuming right now. I find myself constantly wanting to tweet things like, "Isn't Sandra like the most annoying person on earth??" but i know everyone would be too busy live tweeting GoT to care and also half of you don't even appreciate my twitter gold like i think you should.

Side note: I named my fish Cosby. Because he's so funny and definitely a people fish.

Second side note: It is probably an awkward truth that i am also mad obsessed with my twitter account and am on the verge of constantly being offended that you guys never retweet me or anything but hey who's counting.

She says it best:

My coworker came up whisperasked me if I heard our other coworker passing gas. Um, wasn't listening, weirdo.

This gross old lady crush I've been nursing on Hunter Hayes: 

Also of course I'm old enough to have an old lady crush. OF COURSE.

stay true, stay awkward, DONT LET ANYONE DULL YOUR SPARKLE,

bRob

Things You Probably Don't Think Are Worth Blogging About

But they are, to me. They are.

I ripped my pants this weekend. If that isn't a sign that someone needs to get her slightly doughy self to the gym, I sure don't know what is.

My friend, who doubles as my personal trainer because I asked her what sort of things I could do to not have my pants rip open again, sent me a link on being a motivated runner.

Well, lucky for me, I am one step ahead of the game, because Tip #1 is to blog. So now I just have to be fully transparent with you and let you know whether or not I'm running. You, of course, are not allowed to judge me, but rather love me and support me, and by that I mean just praise me when I run and absolutely do not question me if I don't. Also, it would be great if you exclaimed, "WOW look how much weight you've lost you must be running marathons on a bi-daily basis" every so often when passing me on campus or at the Lion or wherever. wherever.

Guys, here goes. I RAN today. 5 [read: 2] miles. Ok, ok, ok, I'll be more honest about my mileage when it isn't so I-eat-Gigi's-free-cupcakes-every-Thursday sad, you know what I mean?

In other news, my little weekend jaunt resulted two project extensions. And here I sit, after the initial due date of the project, not any closer to having started. I'm kind of operating under the "Well, i can't NOT turn it in so it'll get done somehow before tomorrow night" philosophy. Just not right now. It won't get done now.

Aside from me going to the gym by myself of my own accord, today was not special, if you know what I mean. If you are in a happy relationship, congratulations for you [seriously. ish.], but you probably don't know what I mean. If you're single and relishing your freedom, you also don't know what I mean. If you are 10x the Christian I am and spent today focusing on God's love for us, you are way more on your A-game and also probably do not know what I mean. For the rest of you, you might know what I mean.

Time to go listen to Duffy or Ray.

-bRob

PS - I'm really hungry.

Metamorphosis - My journey to Soccer Mommyhood

Doesn't Metamorphosis sound like the name of a very glittery perfume? A cloying mixture of cotton candy and something "floral" that isn't actually found in nature, housed in a plastic purple bottle bejeweled with pink and blue plastic crystals. It'd probably come with a free Lisa Frank pencil. 

I've decided to express my emotions via pictures [haha myspace-style...or was it livejournal?]. This is how I am feeling about not being in Germany yet:

Frustrated

jipped

i don't know what this emotion is, but i think i am feeling it

I am so aggravated and grumpy and bummed, and I don't understand why things are the way they are right now, but all I can say is I trust God. I know that I know that I know that He has plans for my summer, even though right now things are looking bleak. All things work for the good...(Romans 8:28).

I spent most of my day in my jammies on the couch [hats off to you, Bruno Mars], and then I felt a little [a lot] pathetic, so I tried to clean a bit, and then I went and worked out, and I wrote some letters and tried to pretend to be a big kid. Who does responsible things.

It's kind of like this. I'm in the self-congratulatory phase. And tomorrow all the things need to be done. Shopping for a camera, more cleaning, unpacking stuff, working out.

I figure that as long as I am temporarily unemployed and avoiding shopping for business casual clothing, I might as well get my bippy in shape. And the rest of me. I haven't worked out for the past two month, but I had really good reasons: first I was busy finishing/starting semester projects, then [not] beasting finals, then recuperating from finals [that's valid].  um.

So I went and got my sweat on today. I look incrediGross when I work out. Kind of like this, but generally worse:

Every time I get off a machine, I'm dripping with sweat, and I guess I stink, and I start to get really nervous and self-conscious and apologetic.

I wish I had some succinct means of apologizing to everyone in the gym, maybe something like this?

a much-needed t-shirt

But then would people think I'm bragging? Like - ooh la la, look how hardcore I am. I sweat and you get to swim in the puddles. I'm pretty sure that's what Chuck Norris says when he works out.

Tomorrow I've decided to get up before 11am and get my group work-out on at a cardio karate/judochopping/ninja arts class or something. Oh, and a spin class.

A spin class. Between my group workouts and my CR-V and my highlights [I got my hair dyed redder again, and the lady went crazy with the highlights], I think I'm morphing into a soccer mom.

If I just had some Sheryl Crow on my workout playlist, a tennis skirt for my workouts, and an extensive George Clooney movie collection, I'd be a perfect soccer mammy. Except I don't have kidlings. I can work around that.

OH - ps, I decided I'm not a fan of the words post. After about three unrelated quotes on a page, I get bored and decide to go do something else [online boggle]. Assuming you operate even remotely similarly, you probably didn't even read that whole post, did you?

I don't blame you. I'll pass on verses and quotes some other way.

-Soccer-Mom bRob