Have you ever made a really stupid drunk decision? One that will clearly effect your life for a while? Something along the lines of a one night stand or winning a wet t-shirt contest. Well, I got drunk and signed up for a half marathon.
The Disney Princess Half Marathon to be exact. What exactly was I trying to prove? No freakin clue. But now I have 125 days to not only turn my chubby self int a runner, but a long distance runner. Ew. I downloaded an app, 13.1 for Pink, to help me train. And signed up for bootcamp. I’ve already dropped 20 pounds and can run for FIVE WHOLE MINUTES without stopping, but that’s clearly not enough.
I’ve only reread the first two chapters of Patti Stanger’s book “BecomeYour Own Matchmaker” and I really need her to come to Iowa and give me some direction. I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS!
I’ve never actually had a “real” boyfriend. I’ve had boys I would call when I needed physical attention or an ego boost, boys who would take me to dinner when I was hungry and always knew my favorite DVDs. Hell, I have a baby daddy. But no ex-boyfriend. Does that put me ahead or behind all the other 25 year old girls?
Can you create a panel of men to tell me what I should do to improve my look? I can guarantee that all the males I know would mock me and probably encourage me to buy something ridiculous.
How much can I talk about my pets before it get weird?
Where do I find hobbies? Can I bake for him, or does that need to wait until after so many dates?
Should I send out a SurveyMonkey link to all the boys it didn’t work out with?
Does my cocktail of social anxiety and daddy issues make me superadorable or just whacko?
Should I keep living in my moms basement? Or should I focus on getting a big girl job and an apartment and moving somewhere else, before I work on falling in love?
Every day, I take my dog Scotti on a walk. We don’t go very far, just over a mile, but it’s always a calming time filled with thoughts, smells and territory marking. On today’s walk I was thinking about my finances and my closet. I know that in 2013, I want to make my life that much better.
Let’s face it, I could use a big shakeup.
So, I decided that I wouldn’t be spending anymore money on clothes, shoes, undies and accessories until one of two things happen.
1. I drop 30 pounds.
2.I get a big girl job.
Clearly I won’t be buying any goods for a while. I’ll be gone for three straight weeks in January, so I can’t really apply for big girl jobs. And it takes time to lose 30 pounds. So for the next few months I’ll be trying to creatively pull together outfits from what I already own, try new combos, dare to wear some items that I bought on a whim. And making my resume fantastic, with a killer cover letter to boot.
I figure it’s all a nice step as I continue this Dating Detox a’la Patty Stanger.
Who knew it could be so exhausting to work on growing up?
It’s finally October! It seems like I was just making my list of September goals, the majority which I followed through with. This month, I’m a lady with a plan. I’ve scheduled all my workouts, made sure to make a note of all my social days, and am obsessing over this list of fall To-Dos that’s making the rounds on Pinterest.
The goals this month are simple:
1. Go to boot camp every M/W/F. And since I’m a day late in posting this, the first two classes were fanatically evil.
My October workout plan.
2.Be able to run 3 miles without stopping.
3. Just say no to soda.
4. Put some actual effort into my appearance, every day. And this hasn’t happened yet. My bad.
I wish I could say that I wrapped up the blue room, but the various piles of things that need to be correctly (and greenly) disposed of is a bit overwhelming. Now to find spots to recycle electronics AND ancient cans of paint.
Ever since megadatedouche told me that I was to weird/not pretty enough for his tastes, I’ve been trying to focus on making me the best Meredith I can be. I started Whole 30, which I love, minus that whole No Booze thing. I’ve been working out daily, training for a half marathon I stupidly signed up for and hashtagging my workouts as #sweatytosexy.
I’m currently rereading Patti Stanger’s “Become Your Own Matchmaker” and decided to slowly take the steps. That means I’m currently on the Dating Detox. Patti says I only need to do it for 30 days, since I’m not coming off a breakup or anything, but I’m doing no boys, no sex, no whatever until the end of the year. So far all I can tell is that I am desperate for some sexy Skyping but I’m trying to focus all my ‘urges’ into workouts and projects.
And who knew that it could be fun to focus on becoming a sexy beast?
This past week I was trying to figure out what exactly I was aiming for with this blog. Who am I trying to reach? What point am I trying to get across?
I realized that one thing I want to do is prove that Iowa girls can wear fun, fashionable outfits. That a girl doesn’t need access to a Whole Foods and Gold’s Gym to look banging, that there’s good wine made outside of Napa. I need inspiration to actually get out of my house, and maybe even my town on occasion, and DO SOMETHING.
I currently don’t have internet access at my house. Whatever. I’m pretty sure that there are millions of young women my age who don’t have 24/7 access to the Web and they’re getting by. Why not try to write three to four reallyfuckinggood posts a week, instead of seven soso ones?
Eventually, I would love if I could make money from this. Or get an adventure funded. Or maybe just prove to people that I’m not as crazy as they’ve been led to believe.
So here we go, round two. Let’s do this bitches.
Love you, mean it.
Clearly I need to work on my lighting and rock this new do with a white shirt.
Living in a small town means a trip to the ‘city’, aka Ames, IA, always requires planning. This visit the main highlight was my hair. All summer long I have been fantasizing about mermaid tips. All summer long I have been thwarted by my enemies. coughcough mom. But last week I was all like, screw it. Since I have a superparttime job and absolutely nothing I need to look serious for, I decided to go for it. Usually I’d go to my preferred little haircutter lady named Abby, except she’s not allowed to do fun colors. Whatever Abby. Instead I texted a former lifeguard who’s going to school to make people all glamorous and she of course jumped right along.
After four hours of sitting in a chair, next to a girl I wanted to beat, Taylor finished up, had her project that was enhancing my beauty okayed and I was on my way.
Then we did the normal necessary things one most do when in a city with wonderful things. Target, kombucha buying, and due to Whole30, NOT going to the self service fro-yo bar. Whatever.