When the Feeling’s Right, I’m Gonna Run All Night. I’m Gonna Run to You!

Yes. I am in love with Bryan Adams. Especially pre-old-man-boobs Bryan Adams; however, old-man-boobs Bryan Adams is still amazing if you close your eyes. His voice is like… like… unicorns on birthday cake dancing wildly with rainbow sparklers!

Wait, no. Focus.


Refocused: The point of posting the song was solely for reference to a specific few lines of the song: “When the feelin’s right, I’m gonna run all night… I’m gonna run to you!”

I’ve spent the last year sitting in my butt groove on the couch, brewing Keurig after Keurig beverages, watching marathons of reality t.v, wondering why the hell I haven’t burned fat and shrunk my ever expanding ass!?

I maybe, sort of, somewhat was writing my own rules about weight-loss that didn’t end up working out so well for me:


My personally-crafted rules to weight-loss.

On April 1st, 2013, I experienced a spine-chilling nightmare. Worse, actually, it was my reality. I stepped onto the scale (that bitch), that I had avoided for months as I la-di-da’d through my personally-crafted rules to weight-loss. I almost fell to the ground as the scale flashed my weight followed by a universe-shattering “Muhahaha” evil laugh (it happened, I swear).

26 years old and 165lbs. FML.

What did I do? Where did I go wrong? I only ate Doritos on gym days!! I swear!!

If my bitch of a scale had legs, it metaphorically kicked me in the ass that day. It was time, time for some good, old-fashioned, hard-up WORK. Some commitment. Some changes. Some lifestyle changes. At this point, I would like to direct your attention back to my Bryan Adams’ reference… I bought a new pair of running shoes and dammit I started¬†running to you! Who is the “you” in the lyrics that I am running to? Health. I’m running to health, baby! (I know… Shut up).

Becoming a “runner” is a feat in my life, as I have been a dedicated anti-runner for the past 26.5 years of my life. I went out, bought some prime running gear, and hit the treadmill a couple of times a week (no seriously, I “hit” the treadmill for sucking so much!)… but eventually I started to run on it, too! After about a month, running became my affair and I broke up with Doritos (we may still rendezvous in party situations). I found a running partner, and have been running 15 to 20km a week ever since!

I ran away from the edge of obesity. Today is July 26th, 2013, and I am happy to report that I have run exactly 16.2lbs away from my April 1st weight! I definitely do not have all of the answers, but I’m starting to craft a revised version of my own “rules to weight-loss”… and I think I’m going to run with this one for a while ūüėČ


You Forgot the Ketchup? …I Forgot the Tip.

The restaurant world is more of a one-sided experience for me: That of the customer. I have, momentarily in time, stepped foot in the restaurant industry trying out my hand as a server, waitress, waiter, wait-staff, whatever the politically correct title may be; however, the life of waiting on others is most definitely not for me – the brutally honest, can’t-bite-my-tongue-if-it-were-bit-for-me, emotionally charged kind of person. Your entr√©e is too cold, eh? Why don’t you let me sit on it, my hot temper will kick things up a notch.

Although I cannot speak on behalf of those waiting on customer after customer, day after day, I can understand and sympathize with those in the position and note that it is most definitely not the easiest, nor the most glamourous, job title.

I can, however, offer a well-informed opinion from my own personal views as the customer.

I’m going to refer to the aforementioned job position as “waiters” to appease my ignorance and make this flow a little more smoothly (I apologize if that entitlement proves offensive). Waiters get abused, insulted, assaulted, flirted with, chatted up, and often simultaneously assume the role of therapist, friend, foe… all while taking orders, delivering food and ensuring the overall content of the customers. The possibility that a waiter had been thoroughly chewed up and spit out by another table, before tending to your own table, is most probable. The question I have, however, is whether or not that prior abuse excuses a waiters treatment of the next table?

Everyone immediately resorts to all the troubles and sorrows a waiter has to deal with on a daily basis. Oh boo hoo! No one cares. I mean, really though, no one cares. Teachers get spit on, mark endless amounts of work stained with boogers and other bodily fluids, get yelled at by students and parents, plan lessons day and night, mark all products of their lessons day and night, go to workshops, take courses, defend themselves and their career day after day- and if they show up to school and give students or parents the cold shoulder because¬†they’ve had a bad day… my goodness, they’d be gracing the blue pages at the back of the¬†Professionally Speaking¬†magazine outlining their attitude offences and why they have been suspended or even let go!

I know we’re all human, even waiters; but, dammit, there’s just no excuse for ruining my special night out! I just finished experiencing a bit of what it’s like to have a long-winded career as a waiter through Steve Dublanica’s best-seller,¬†Waiter Rant. His novel, which was inspired by his formerly anonymous blog, goes through the various emotions and motions of the day-to-day life of a waiter.

I particularly found his waiter-ly views on tipping very… contrary… to my own views, as the customer. Dublanica, probably along with many working in this industry, believes that tipping should be mandatory, and, on top of that, a mandatory 20 to 30%.


Alright, fine! Consider me the worst customer in the world, but I’m sure I’m not alone in this. Here it is… from the perspective of the customer… No, wait, from MY OWN customer perspective. I can’t speak on behalf of everyone… even though I try.

I don’t choose to go out to eat at a restaurant because I cannot cook at home. I love cooking and experimenting with my cabinet full of spices and collection of various Caribbean hot sauces; however, once in a while, a special occasion arises! It’s a birthday, a job offer, a promotion, or a special night out to catch up with friends… some sort of wonderfulness needs to be shared and celebrated, and, as I noted in a past post, these social events often happen around food. We sometimes choose to celebrate these happy events at a restaurant because maybe we feel like splurging, maybe because we are flying-high on emotions and happiness and don’t feel like slaving over the stove or following up on good news with a sink full of dishes. Our reason for eating out can also be the complete opposite: We’ve had a hellish week and the last things we feel like doing are cooking and cleaning, we’re fresh out of KD, and just want a good meal accompanied with some friendly service.¬†

So, now we’ve entered the restaurant with good spirits and smiles on our faces, or feeling exhausted and sombre. Our waiter approaches and it quickly becomes obvious that he or she clearly doesn’t give a shit. They take our order… what was their name again? Oh, right, didn’t mention it. They bring the food, don’t check up on our overcooked steak, keep the drink glasses empty, and force us away from our conversation while we are constantly scanning the establishment for our mysteriously vanished waiter. The waiter spontaneously shows up and rounds off the night by handing the bill to the man at the table. Excus√©¬†moi? I am an independent woman and maybe¬†I will¬†be taking care of things this evening (most likely I’m not, but you know, it’s happened). Why on EARTH would Dublanica or any other waiter still expect I leave a 20 to 30% tip… why any tip at all?

I worked in the hotel industry, as a guest services representative (that means I worked at the front desk) for approximately 5 years. If I was all peaches n’ cream… no tip. If I was an under-slept, over-worked grump… no tip. There are many jobs or careers that do not offer a monetary value for work well done. Waiters still earn wages, like the rest of us. Yes, I know, less than minimum wage, but they are still getting paid and have the opportunity to leave the rest of us in the dust with a job well done. Tips, as far as I am concerned, are bonuses to the job and must be¬†earned. If your waiter skills are as crappy as my toilet after a night of Mexican food, then explain to me¬†how you’re surprised that I haven’t taken MORE money out of my un-tipped earned dollars to pay you additional money for ruining my night out?

Absolut Vodka before 11pm: $119.00 or AFTER 11pm: $159.00

Dining out is not, in my own situation, food for survival. Many of us, I presume (there I go trying to speak on behalf of the rest of you again), eat out for the¬†experience. We do not go out and pay 10x more for a steak or 30x more for a plate of pasta because we like to throw money away. We go out to enjoy quality food, a welcoming atmosphere, in a social environment along with doting service. Why do you think people sit in VIP areas at the club and order bottle service, paying $300.00 for sub-par vodka when they can buy the same bottle for $30.00 at the liquor store? It’s for the¬†experience. Being waited on, looked after, and just taken care of, leaving everything but bathroom visits and wiping, for someone else to take care of for an evening.

Absolut Vodka at the LCBO: $26.45

If you’re a waiter that bitches about customers not tipping, there are two possibilities: 1) they suck, or 2) you suck. If not being tipped is a regular occurrence for you, then it is probably you that sucks. Stop ruining the customer’s experience dining out because someone else tried ruining your day. The customer may not be able to dine out often and is probably already overpaying for the food, so being “taken care of” by a miserable waiter that’s¬†“had a bad day” doesn’t warrant a tip! It just doesn’t! Just like the girls squeezing into clothes obviously sizes upon sizes too small, I cannot see the¬†turmoil in your soul… nor do I care. Deliver my food to the table with a smile on your face. And yes, I’d like some of that fresh ground pepper on my salad.¬†

I do realize that waiters have a weapon against us: Screwing with our food (or Dublanica’s favourite form of revenge, farting while walking passed the table); however, us customers have a weapon against you, too! Screwing with how you make a living…¬†accidentally forgetting the tip.

Yes… You DO Look Fat in That.

Do I look fat in this?”… Dum de dum dum duuummmmmmm. This age-old question is one that men think they fret; however, try being the girl-friend recipient of this… this…¬†trick. No, wait, try being the brutally, can’t-help-myself, can’t-bite-my-tongue-if-I-tried, honest girl-friend recipient of this.

I pride myself on being an honest person, and an honest friend. I am not a sneaky bitch and I do not wish for my friends to go out with me looking like they’re the lead cadette of their own freak show. I want my friends to look good. I do not secretly wish to sabotage them with false praise. So when you ask me, “do I look fat in this?,” please be open to honesty. You may be able to see where this is going: I have, somewhat unfortunately for that friendship, answered “yes” to the above question. Honestly, it’s not¬†us looking bad in clothes, it’s just that sometimes certain¬†clothes look bad on¬†us.

Let’s break it down a little. Why OH why would us gals pose such a question in the first place? There are a few possible scenarios, in my opinion, as to why this question has been asked:

1) Girl looks FAN-FREAKING-TASTIC… and knows it. She has yet to be showered in compliments and she takes this passive-aggressive approach in hopes of receiving, what she believes, are well-deserved compliments. Sneaky… but can work… sometimes (but with possible backlash).

2) Girl looks FAN-FREAKING-TASTIC… and doesn’t know it. She has been plagued with that unfortunate self-sabotaging esteem and cannot convince herself, or be convinced, that she looks good in¬†anything¬†she puts on. Sad… but we have all had, or have, this friend.

3) Girl has clearly been pre-drinking, or apparent vision problem, as she looks like a train wreck and honestly thinks she looks good; thus, trying to pull off girl in number 1 scenario. This is where the good and honest friend must pull through for her before all her itty-bits go on showcase.

4) THE TEST. Want to know if you’re friend is secretly trying to sabotage you? Feel like putting your man in an awkward situation to test his honesty, or just for shits n’ giggles? Put on something obviously horrible and pose the question. Many truths may be revealed… just make sure you’re prepared for the answer.

The point I am trying to make is that more people, more females, really need to start dressing for their body type (men, too, but men + fashion = borrrrrrring). Don’t know how to dress for your body type? No excuse! There is magazine upon magazine outlining various body types and the best suited jeans, tops, bathing suits, etc., to try on. Have you asked any of the employees in the clothing store to help you find a pair of dress pants suitable for your thunder thighs? Or a top that will enhance, not hide or over-expose, what your momma gave you?

Images of females squeezing themselves into clothes obviously sizes upon sizes too small have burned my retina for far too long. I must clarify and note that I do not care what your personal style is… I also don’t care what size you are; however, when I go out in public, whether you’re a size 0 or 20, I do NOT want to see any cracks, crevices or creases.

There are a lot of interesting debates I have heard, read about, or participated in, about attacking women for what they are wearing. There are a lot of people that mock or even bully the women, and there are others that are such complete advocates of women rights that they forget about the image before them and think that said woman should be able to subject others to all their private goodies without consequence.

What I urge us all to remember is that: The moment you walk out into public, rules change… don’t they?! You want to pee in the hallway at home… FINE! Let er’ flow. You feel like peeing on the sidewalk in public? …Handcuffs! You want to binge drink yourself useless while yelling at the television… Have fun! You want to binge drink yourself useless and yell at the bartender who has finally cut you off? …Handcuffs! You want to have naked Wednesdays at your house? Let it all hang out (but don’t forget the apron when you’re sizzling up that bacon)! You want to have naked Wednesdays at the office? …Handcuffs! There are LAWS that govern the way we conduct ourselves in public. If I go out in public and have to be subjected to… well… like I said, the cracks, crevices and creases of others- I have all the right in the world to be offended, and, if I so please, disgusted as well. I am only human.

I am sure, when a female squeezes herself into a size 4, when in all actuality she’s a size 14, there are some underlying body image issues. That isn’t something to make light of; but,¬†I cannot see your size tag, nor can¬†I see all the turmoil in your soul, all I can see is absolutely everything else. Yes, you DO look fat in that. Who let you leave the house in that? If that same size 14 woman put on the same outfit IN SIZE 14, then certain body parts wouldn’t be sneaking out and playing peek-a-boo!

Sweetheart… that’s a tank-top!

What about women who dress provocatively? Well, that’s a completely different topic and not exactly the point I am trying to make right now. Of course there are women that dress in the correct-sized clothing and still have everything hanging out everywhere- but those women have another set of issues. I call them whores. Just joking! No, but seriously, when did liberation mean that of body parts? Okay okay… I am getting off-track and into some trouble. Stay with me.

I am not some skinny bitch size 2, sitting around, typing away on my blog, eating cotton balls, mocking all of the plus size women that can’t fit their clothes. I speak from experience. My walk-in closet and deep dresser drawers contain articles of clothing from sizes 4 to 14. No joke. That is me, the story of my life, the ever-fluctuating woman. I used to lose the weight and then ritually burn the clothes. Okay, not really, but that would have been fun. I donated the over-sized clothes in celebration of my weight loss. This soon became an apparent waste of money, because all I’d have left is the size 4 to 9’s, but grew back into the 12 to 14’s. I have been¬†that girl, especially in highschool, the one that picks up the size 4 when it more clearly should have been the 10. I have been¬†that girl, the girl that is hanging out in undies, in the changeroom, making my belly button jiggle in the mirror, too embarrassed to just ask for “a larger size.” What I have learned through my journey of sizes is that it feels a hell of a lot better to pick up MY SIZE and then, possibly, be asking for a size smaller because of how that particular item may fit OR because all of my gym visits have paid off a bit. I have also learned that drowning my body in larger clothes, while feeling insecure, made me look frumpy, sloppy, sad and maybe even kind of angry. I have come to understand that squeezing into clothes that are far too small makes it hard to breath, cuts off circulation, makes me look¬†a lot larger than I actually am AND is my butt-cracks invitation to sneak out and say helloooooo to everyone behind me.

Reality check! We are women. We are ALL beautiful! It’s not¬†us¬†looking bad in¬†clothes, it’s just that sometimes certain¬†clothes¬†look bad on¬†us. Let’s just start by choosing the right size. Please?

Queen Latifah: Plus-size and fabulous!

Liebster Award!

What a pleasant surprise! A fellow blogger and nominee, Strong Like My Coffee, has nominated me for The Liebster Award! I would have liked to nominate every blog I took the time to read… if you can catch MY attention, then YES, fabulous! However, if, unfortunately, I was unable to nominate your blog OR if you are an email follower- PLEASE, copy and paste the 11 questions I have posed to you and respond by commenting on this blog post! Love you all! Miss. Fit “Misfit” xoxo

Liebster means ‚Äėdearest‚Äô or ‚Äėfavorite‚Äô in German, and the rules for accepting the nomination are:

1. Post 11 things about yourself

2. Answer 11 questions the person giving the award has set for you

3. Create 11 questions for the people you are giving the award to

4. Choose 11 people to award, telling them in a post.

I’m excited! Let’s do this!


1. I have two little angels in my life in the form of Chihuahuas- Minnie and Bambi!

2. I got on my first plane when I was 2 years old and haven’t stopped traveling since! Budapest, Yugoslavia, Vienna, Belgrade, London, Milan, Scotland, Paris, Jamaica, Mexico, Cayman Islands, Belize, Miami, New York, L.A,… just to name a few!

3. I worked my butt off in University and graduated first class standing with my honours degree!

4. My ultimate snack of choice: Zesty Cheese Doritos dipped in Philadelphia Dill Pickle Dip.

5. I’m kind of sick of being a¬†girlfriend of 8 years and would like that to change to¬†fianc√©¬†sooner than later.

6. I’m a sucker for reality shows. Current obsessions include Big Brother, Bachelor Pad, The Real World St. Thomas, any of The Real Housewives series, and pretty much any reality t.v. show on HGTV or The Food Network.

7. I’m a spice-aholic. Meaning: When I’m cooking or preparing food of any kind I usually add at least 5 different spices randomly, and this doesn’t include any of my hot sauces.

8. Speaking of hot sauces, I have an¬†extremely high¬†“heat tolerance.” When we came back from Jamaica everyone was asking what I bought myself= hot sauces of all kinds. I eat jalape√Īo peppers for a light snack and usually create dishes that you’ll be feeling for weeks, and that I just think is “weak.”

9. I’m the most obnoxiously open and honest person you’ll meet. I’m constantly kicking myself for “sharing too much” when meeting new people. I can’t handle fake people… “fakeness” and dishonesty are highest on my list of pet peeves. With me… what you see is what you get! (And I hope that comes across in my blog).

10. I use Secret brand, “spring breeze” scented, aerosol, antiperspirant deodorant (Wow, didn’t realize how technical that sounds until I had to type it all out!!).

11. I replace the toilet paper roll to roll over (I get so annoyed by under that I once… don’t judge… reversed the roll in a public washroom).


The 11 Questions posed by Strong Like My Coffee:

1. How do you like your coffee?
3 milk NO sugar… I’m sweet enough!

2. What’s your favorite thing to blog about?
Thoughts, feelings, observations, etc., all pertaining to health, exercise, food, while relating to the larger theme of “life.”

3. Do you prefer to go out for dinner or cook your own meal?
Both! I love cooking and experimenting with all of my spices and hot sauces, but I will never turn up a good meal out! If I do eat out it’s usually for Thai or Sushi- dishes that I have not quite perfected at home.

4. What is your favorite Disney movie?
Good question! I’d have to say that it is a tie between The Lion King and Peter Pan!

5. Where is the last vacation you took?
Ocho Rios, Jamaica! We were there over new years last year and it was one of the most amazing vacations I have gone on since the last one.

6. Favorite guilty-pleasure TV show?
More than one, but I’ll say: Big Brother

7. Thoughts on Crocs (the shoes):
Never bought them, never will. Will probably secretly judge you for poor fashion sense if I see you in them. 

8. Do you watch or play any sports?
Soccer fan to the grave. Had the opportunity while living in England to take the train over to Manchester and watched Manchester United play against Blackburn in their home stadium. AMAZING! I also watch a lot of poker on t.v., can that be considered a sport?

9. Sweet or Savoury snacks?

10. Are you a spender or a saver?
Can’t be one without the other. I save well to spend well!

11. Where was the best burger you ever had?
Dunn’s Famous Market Deli in downtown Ottawa- Spicy Chicken Burger!¬†


1. Do you replace the toilet paper roll over or under (or don’t think about it)?

2. Do you continue to use a crayon you have broken in half because of applying too much pressure? Or do you reach for a new full-size one in the same colour?

3. What’s your number one, go-to, pump up song at the moment?

4. Do you fall asleep on your back, stomach, or side?

5. Dogs or cats?

6. The most rewarding moment in your life thus far?

7. What is your all-time, favourite, home-cooked recipe? (Include the recipe, please, hehe)

8. Where do you find your inspiration to blog, or, an inspiration in your life in general?

9. What is your biggest pet peeve?

10. What are your top three book recommendations?

11. Have you read all of my blog posts? If no, why not? ūüôā


1. HIAL | Rachel

2. Meagan: “Sweating Sucks…”¬†¬†

3. Losing With Cooper

4. HCMF Movement

5. A Confederacy of Spinsters

6. Quadruple F

7. Adopting James

8. BlizzBio

9. Bunny and Pork Belly

10. Toss the Sugar Fitness

11. Healthy Happy Andy

Life is on Our Side

It’s everywhere… we hear it all of the time: “Get off of the couch!” – “Do something!” – “Get Active” – “Live life”… Whether it’s inspiring quotes we come across on our Facebook newsfeed, motivating phrases we have re-pinned on Pinterest, banners that stretch over stores or billboards, songs we listen to or commercials on television: the message is to¬†go…live!

Yes! Great messages!… of course! The problem, however, is that a lot of this discourse is closely associated with imagery or advice about running marathons, hiking Mount Everest, or Michael Phelps breaking world records on the splash pad. These are all extreme physical situations that I don’t believe will¬†highly¬†motivate all of us beginners. I see these messages and think,¬†ummmm, well maybe after I watch the season finale of Bachelor Pad tonight. The thing is… I don’t really think that this is what all of those motivating quotes and phrases are really getting at. We’ve missed a step here. You don’t have to be a marathon runner to truly be¬†living life, and you don’t have to swim the black sea to be active and healthy.

Life is on our side! As long as we’re up and out there¬†living, happiness and health aren’t far behind.

I recently had the opportunity to enjoy an end of season camping trip with a few new friends. I came back feeling happy, refreshed and full of life. Rejuvenated. Subtract the beverages and a few late night snacks around the card table, I almost had that lively feeling that consumes you when you have finished an intense, sweaty, workout at the gym and you’re now walking towards your car. Success!

There was definitely no arc trainer available at the camp, nor did I partake in any afternoon jogs or morning yoga sessions. But that’s just the point I am trying to make… there doesn’t HAVE to be.

There are many things we do on a daily basis, habitual things, routines we are in, etc., that are contributing to our desire for a healthy and happy life. The key is to keep on keeping on. Keep moving. Go do¬†it… Whatever¬†it may be. Let me further explain…

This camping trip I:

1) Put on my sailors cap and embraced the open waters for some serious bass fishing!

Calories Burned:

2) Played an intense game of horseshoes and showed the boys how it’s done!

Calories Burned:

3) Played endless midnight games of Rummy500 and poker (how can you call it camping otherwise?)

Calories Burned:

4) Got into my sexy string thong bikini full piece swimsuit and splashed around in the perfectly warm lake water (like, not pee warm, but warm like a hot bath that you waited too long to get into).

Calories Burned:

5) Nothing perfects a camping trip more than preparing a feast and gathering around with friends for great conversation and a night full of laughs!

Calories Burned:

Now, of course all of these figures I proposed are approximate and depend on a number of factors (age, weight, intensity of activity, etc.), but reporting exact numbers is not my point. My point is that it may seem overly-optimistic when we read and see all of these motivating “live life” posters and quotes and think YES!… I want to!¬†But I just don’t waaaaaaant to run. Life is on our side! We don’t have to get up off of the couch and run, we just need to get up off of the couch. Keep yourself moving, go spend quality time with family and friends, give yourself the push to be on-the-go instead of stagnant in front of the television or in front of the computer screen (unless, of course, you’re taking some time out of your day to read my blog!).

I don’t want to get the wrong message across, so I must clarify: Exercise and a healthy diet are integral to that goal of leading a healthy lifestyle; however, if you just start by setting yourself the goal to “do stuff,” turn off the t.v., and just¬†live life then the energy, motivation and determination will follow.

As I sit here contemplating today’s post, I raise my morning coffee to you, my friends (raising it up in the air is probably burning some sort of calories), and offer you a cheers to¬†life and doing¬†stuff ūüôā







“…Hold On For One More Day!”

I have been M.I.A… and I apologize. This is my excuse:¬†

You know that saying, “hanging on by a thread”… yeah. That was me this past week. After my houseguests left, and the interesting… umm…¬†time spent with my sister’s new boyfriend¬†ex-boyfriend, I was feeling irritated, frustrated and had completely fallen out of the routine I had started to establish for myself.

During the visit with my sister and her new boyfriend ex-boyfriend, I had an… accident… that may or may not have involved Tequila and a staircase. I know… I know… No need to reprimand me for my poor choices, as my useless, bruised up, scuffed up, swollen leg has done that for me!

Awesome! So now I’m in pain. Handicapped. Irritated. Frustrated. Sad. I spent most of my week on the couch or sprawled out in my king bed feeling useless and completely sorry for myself… while singing “1-tequila-2-tequila-3-tequila-FLOOR.” I cried more times than I can count this week, and most of those times were completely unprovoked. For the first time since my move, I found myself missing my whole support system back home.

You with the sad eyes
Don’t be discouraged
Oh I realize
It’s hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness inside you
Can make you feel so small

But I see your true colours
Shining through
I see your true colours
And that’s why I love you

So don’t be afraid to let them show
Your true colours
True colours are beautiful,
Like a rainbow

No… I’m not crazy (although that could depend on your own definition). I have just been revived… by the 80’s! While lazily playing around on my laptop, ignoring my blog, and eating crunchy cheesies, I downloaded “Hold On” by Wilson Phillips (Bridesmaids was playing on the flatscreen). Then that got me going! 80’s music just started to flood my iTunes! I was a toddler of the late 80’s, but truly believe that I missed an era that was meant for me: Big hair, bigger hair, denim, and music that you can’t help but turn around and start singing or dancing along to! This 80’s-ish playlist of songs is my new “get off your a**” album, at the moment.

We all need a little music in our life. We need our own theme song, or theme “playlist” as I currently have. Those songs that, even on your worst of days, make you want to get up, crimp your hair, and dance around the living room wearing bright pink lipstick and singing into a hairbrush. My playlist isn’t necessarily composed of songs I would workout to, but they are songs that make me want to¬†get up and do¬†something! The best part about it, your playlist can change at any time, for any reason… as long as it inspires you in some way or another!

What’s¬†your¬†theme song (or songs)… Go ahead… Hit me with your best shot. Ha!

My most recent “get off your a** and do something” playlist!
80’s inspired lol!

P.S. It was weigh-in day yesterday… For those of you who may be wondering. Yes. I did weigh-in. After the week I had this weigh-in was remarkable to me. It was the universe’s way of telling me “Don’t give up… you haven’t set yourself back that far”…

It was… drum roll please… wah-wah… the SAME lol. I’m not unhappy with it because I was MORE than sure that it would be up. But it wasn’t… So let’s hope next week I have some better news!

It’s Not Cellulite, It’s My Body’s Way of Saying “I’m Sexy”… in Braille

A week that started in full force with a great outlook for yesterday’s weigh-in had more than a few distractions. My sister flew down to visit us for a week and brought along her new boyfriend that I was meeting for the first time.

So yes, I drank my fair share in alcohol this week.

I still managed to get to the gym… once. It’s difficult to leave your house guests behind and carry on with your regular workout routine. Smoothies as a snack also fell through as we were out of the house for most of the days. I did get in some physical activity while walking around and touring the city with them. We even had a splash at the water park!

Ooooh the water park! So nerve racking! I get into the good ol’ one piece and check myself out in the swirly IKEA mirror on the wall (if I position myself between two of the swirly mirrors that are slightly separated, I look half as big!). Hmmmm… cellulite on the front of my legs now too, eh!? When did you sneak up? The party got too big in the back and it had no choice but to expand around the front. Glad I could accommodate!

Cellulite… Cellulite, cellulite, cellulite. Before I ever visibly showed any signs of cellulite I was more than grossed out at the women who walked around with it showing. Eew! Why not cover up? It wasn’t until I was unsuspectingly attacked and overpowered by cellulite one dark evening, that I began to notice it sneaking up everywhere! Young, fit, 20-something year old women, walking around with their own braille codes on the backs of their legs and thighs. Cellulite doesn’t discriminate, either. Young, old, rich, poor… I have to admit, I am definitely one of those people suckered into the gossip magazines that feature incriminating beach photos of celebrities sporting their own braille messages. They¬†are¬†human! … sort of.


Have you attempted any of the shelf cellulite products? Pfft… I haven’t. Umm… Yeah. Okay, maybe I have tried it once… or, possibly, have a continuous supply of Nivea Cellulite Gel in my bathroom cupboard. I used to¬†always buy the Nivea Cellulite Patches, until they were discontinued. The product was being¬†discontinued and I still insisted on buying out the rest of the product left on the shelf because I swear “it worked!” I will not even attempt to explain my thought process behind that decision. Mind over matter. If I think it’s helping or reducing the appearance of the cellulite, then so be it. If I could afford to experiment with all of those expensive procedures that the celebrities are undergoing to reduce the appearance… I’d do those, too.

But, I can’t afford it. I can barely afford to keep up my stalk of all those firming gels and creams.


Here it is, folks! A step-by-step guide to perfecting your own body braille message

1. Invite your younger sister, that you are incredibly overprotective of, for a visit and ask her to bring her new boyfriend that you know absolutely nothing about. You will find beer after beer spontaneously appearing in your hand.

2. Eat away your emotions with an over indulgence in snacks and salty or sweet treats.

3. Invite over a house-full of people to intimidate said new boyfriend and prepare a spread of hors d’oeuvres that you must first “taste test” to ensure quality.

4. Take your house guests downtown to the Byward Market and stop in at “Dunn’s Famous Market Deli,” and order the Bacon Poutine!


Oooh right… So… Weigh-in day was yesterday. Yeah:

This weigh-in would indicate a 0.2lbs weight loss. It’s worse than last week’s results; however, I have decided NOT to beat myself up about this one, as it is still down, and definitely not up, despite the number of hearty distractions that I have had this week!

Until next post, my friends…

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