One to Nothin'

H54F

by 3 Comments

Five Friday things to high five about:
1. I booked my flight to Florida for Christmas! I’m going home for the first time in half a year. That just doesn’t seem right at all, but I’m beyond excited to spend the holidays with my family and old friends, humidity and all. I’m ready for some Lactaid White Russians!
2. There’s a certain guy flying into the Bay today from the East coast and I’m kind of excited to see him. He also helped me cross off one of my November goals yesterday (can you guess which one?). Two high fives for you. You go, Glen Coco.
3. I cooked this week! I made vegan Almond Joys and stuffed peppers (which I might just blog about later). I know maybe normal functioning human beings cook things on a regular basis, but I’ll be honest with you, I gave myself a big ole high five yesterday for doing laundry, so cooking counts.
4. I’m going to my first hockey game tonight! Here’s to hoping I get to see some dudes knock each other’s teeth out. Go Bulls?
5. Ms. Babbles and myself have an exciting blogging adventure coming at you guys soon. I’m super psyched about it and hopefully you will be, too. Details coming soon!
Here’s my sad, sad week in fitness (I’d like to say next week will be better, but see high five #2):
Saturday: 5.87 miles + quickie workout
Happy Friday, friends!
Linking up here.

Douchey song lyrics that make me lol

by 8 Comments

“Girl, if you can do better than me,
Go, yeah, go but remember
Good love is hard to find,
Good love is hard to find.
You got lucky, babe,
when I found you.”

I love me some Tom Petty, but really, dude? It’s bad enough that I once heard you talk smack about Led Zeppelin in an interview, but this song pushes it over the edge. You basically just told your girl to watch what she says to you because SHE got lucky when you came into her life. Yes, Tom, good love is hard to find, which is why she’ll be passing right on by your bag o douche so she can continue searching for it.

“I broke it off thinking you’d be cryin’ 
Now I feel like shh looking at you flyin’ 
I want you back.”

Okay, this Cher Lloyd is kills me but, like, in the best way a douchey song can. Maybe it’s because of the straight up unabashed truth behind it: You break up with your sig-oth because you think you’re better off, he/she gets with someone else and is rocking it, so you want ’em back. Simple as that, except no one actually wants to admit what’s actually happening, except good ole douchey Cher. She sings the truth AND she grunts like a damn champion.

“I was tired of my lady, 
We’d been together too long
 Like a worn out recording of a favorite song.
So while she lay there sleepin’ I read the paper in bed
And in the personal columns, there was this letter I read..”

Oh, you thought this was a fun-loving party anthem about pina coladas and getting caught in the rain? No. Homeboy is reading a classified ad in the newspaper (or Plenty O Fish for you youngins who have never seen a newspaper in real life, lol, who am I?), trolling for a hot new piece of ass WHILE his woman is lying next to him in bed. Spoiler alert: He goes on the blind date and it’s his old lady there who has secretly loved pina coladas and getting caught in the rain this whole time. 
Side note: what kind of douche is anti-health food and yoga..?

“I got a girl in every city
from here to Peru
When I left you,
I signed my name on your left boob
now go get that tattooed,
I’ll be back soon.”

There were so many theme-appropriate lines in this song that it was hard to narrow it down to this one. There’s just something about telling one of the many girls from here to Peru to go get his name tattooed on her left boob (not her right one, because we all know the left one is bigger and we can’t taint a slightly smaller breasticle with Shwayze’s sacred name) that stuck out to me as extra douchey.

“The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap
We’ll all stay skinny ’cause we just won’t eat.”

It’s Nickelback. Need I say more? Please don’t hit “play.”

“Ladies leave your man at home
The club is full of ballers and their pockets full grown
And all you fellas leave your girl with her friends
‘Cause it’s 11:30 and the club is jumpin, jumpin
Though he say he got a girl
Yeah it’s true you got a man
But the party ain’t gon’ stop
So let’s make it hot, hot.”

And you wonder why he didn’t want to put a ring on, Bey? Really? The douche logic is sound: You’re in a committed relationship, but there are men with money at the club AND it’s 11:30, so that makes infidelity totally acceptable. The party ain’t gon’ stop, after all. 

“You’re a pretty little flower
I’m a busy little bee
Honey, that’s all you need to see
I can take you for an hour
But then I’m gonna leave
Honey, I know you’ll wait for me.”

I want to punch him in his tiny little reject. Everything about this song screams douche. This one doesn’t even make me lol, to be honest. From the stupid play on bees pollinating flowers to the unoriginal use of the word, “honey.” Ugh, now I’m just angry. I’m offended for bees even.

“As soon as I love her it’s been too long
Talks of future with you caves me in
Swallow my sugar kiss and eat it alone
Hearts collide and smash any dreams of love.”

This is a douchey song done right. I love it. I don’t even care. Well written douchebag imagery trumps “I’m a busy little bee” so hard. 

“You should know
That I love you a lot
But I just can’t date
A dude with a vag.”

Oh, Ke$ha. Why do we discuss loving this dude who you then go on to say you only wanted one thing from (she’s talking about sex, you guys) and he got confused? Maybe he got confused because the chorus of your song says, “you should know that I love you a lot.” Stop snorting glitter, girl, and know that changing the spelling of grow a ‘pair’ to ‘pear’ doesn’t make it more clever. It just looks like you don’t know how to properly spell homophones. 

“Well my girl’s in the next room
Sometimes I wish she was you
I guess we never really moved on.”
This song is the epitome of douchbaggery. It just is. From the Creed/Nickelback hybrid vocals to the one way phone convo about his ex girlfriend’s angel lips while his current lady friend is in the next room, Hinder nails it on the douche-ability scale. Why did this song ever need to be written? People like this don’t deserve to wallow in their sadness to music they can relate to. That should be a privilege reserved for the in love, happy, lonely, heartbroken and non-douchebags of the world.

What douchey songs make you lol?

The one that almost got away

by 5 Comments

Dress: Kensie / Jacket: BB Dakota / Boots: Nine West

Once upon a time I was flipping through the fashion shoot section of Cosmo mag when I came across this Jack Kerouac-esque model. She was such a badass riding on the back of a motorcycle with some dude wearing leather. She was probably hitchhiking–that’s how badass she was. She looked way too fabulous to actually have ridden on the bike far. Come to think of it, there was a little narrative written down on each page of the shoot, too, which just made the whole thing that much more romantic. Anyway, if she really needed a ride she probably could’ve put the pair of earrings she was wearing on eBay and bought her own damn bike, but none of this mattered to me. The only thing that mattered was the pure unadulterated furry perfection in the form of a jacket adorning her shoulders. 
She wore this aztec print piece of heaven with a super tight, super short dress and biker boots and I had to have it. I’m not sure that I’ve ever been so passionate about an article of clothing up until or since this point in time. It far surpassed any puppy love I may have encountered throughout my adolescence. I carefully tore the page out of the magazine and held it close to my heart for months telling anyone who would listen the tale of the beautiful, unattainable and completely irresistible coat. I knew it was BB Dakota, but it wasn’t available on their website and it was nowhere to be found on the interwebz, so I became more and more fascinated. At one point I found it on the Macy’s website, I think, and it was sold out in my size. Needless to say, I was distraught. Mind you, this was a good three years ago, so I had never experienced actual heartache before. I assumed this was it. I was wrong. But it didn’t stop me from singing “you’re the reason for the tear drops on my guitar” to this coat. That’s how serious it was.
Finally after carrying the page of Cosmo around in my purse for far longer than is socially acceptable, I found the mythical creature on Lulu’s. Did I mention it was far too expensive for an unemployed college student living in Florida where you could never possibly have a need for such a jacket to buy? Well, it was. Luckily my parents are awesome and let me do a little online shopping for my Christmas present early. They still made me wait until Christmas day to open it, but when I did, it was glorious. Which brings me to today. Three years later, in a field over 3,000 miles away from that little Florida town, wearing the jacket I lusted after with a short dress and biker boots, pretending I’m about to jump on the back of a motorcycle.

“Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road.”
-Jack Kerouac

Linking up here.

Homemade Vegan Almond Joys

by 3 Comments

I longingly eyed chocolately Halloween treats for all of October and then I saw this beautiful post, which sealed the deal. I needed to create my very own vegan Almond Joys (for those of you who are new around here, I’m lactose intolerant and a huge fan of dairy products, hence the vegan treats). I expanded upon this recipe substituting cream of coconut for sweetened condensed milk and dairy-free chocolate chips for, well, normal chocolate chips.
Here’s what I used: 7 oz cream of coconut, 1 teaspoon vanilla extract, 1/8 teaspoon salt, 2 1/4 cups powdered sugar, 14 oz shredded unsweetened coconut, a bag of whole almonds, 16 oz dairy-free semi-sweet chocolate chips
Combine all the ingredients except the almonds and chocolate in a bowl and press into a greased up baking sheet. Press almonds into the coconut goo in rows and let it chill in the fridge for at least an hour. Once it’s all cold and stuck together, cut up the pieces, melt the chocolate on the stove and, if you’re anything like me, get impatient and only fully cover the first dozen or so before resorting to plopping spoonfuls of chocolate on each square. Turns out I can’t really handle that much chocolate at a time anyway, so I actually preferred the impressionist version of the Almond Joy even better.
The proof is in my eyes. Look at that sexy accent wall. Try not to look at the running-induced hand scars. Confession: I had Almond Joys and carrots for dinner last night. What is this life I live?

How am I a functioning adult?

by 6 Comments

Since I know you guys love it when I tell you what an idiot I am, (like, seriously.. this post and this post are my two most viewed posts ever) I figured why stop now?
Ever since I moved into my apartment three months ago, I’ve been telling everyone the wrong address. Luckily it’s close enough to the real deal that most of the time I get the mail anyway, but getting the mail simply validated my belief that I was giving out the correct address. This is not the case and was proven to me when I received a piece of mail with the address circled in pen and the words, “NO SUCH BUILDING” right after ordering pizza for myself for the first time. I had to go exploring through my parking lot in my “I don’t do mornings” drawstring moose pjs, no bra and no shoes to find homeboy with the vegan pizza because the building I’ve been telling everyone I live in doesn’t exist. COOL. This was my Friday night: pizza, Pretty Little Liars and realizing my ineptitude. 
While we’re on the subject, ever since moving in and deciding one day that I needed to take a delicious, relaxing bath, I realized there was no plug for the bath tub. Just holes. I was like, “Why in the eff do I even have a bathtub,”  right? Wrong. My roommate informed me that there’s a knob you push up or down depending on if you want the water to drain or not. WITCHCRAFT. I guess I just thought California tubs had little awkward Gonzo noses for no reason at all? 
How am I a functioning adult?
Really, though, I’m not. Last weekend I left my debit card in a bar again (in my defense, I ran out in a hurry in order to not be left at the bar by myself, not because I was too drunk to remember..) but either way the bar refused to let anyone else retrieve it. So Saturday, after taking Ziggy for a 6-miler and watching her sleep with her head under the bed, I ventured into the city to retrieve it. As I was getting ready to go, I decided I needed to wear combat boots because I was feeling like a badass. I was like, you know who doesn’t get messed with? The chick wearing a pink dress and some combat boots, duh. This was a severe miscalculation. 
I couldn’t refill my card to take the bus since I was not in possession of my debit card, so I had walk the mile to Emma’s apartment. No big deal except that I chugged a liter of water before getting on the train and got denied access to three different restrooms. Then I got called a whore by some guy walking with his buddies, followed by a semi driver honking and waving, some pimp-looking dude say, “Hey there, pretty” and slammed into by some person on a crosswalk all while trying to keep my stomach from exploding. Definitely my most traumatic commute thus far, but I retrieved my debit card and we spent the rest of the night talking to super wasted bros in an Irish pub. Oh, then I snugged with Ziggy. Doesn’t that top right pic kind of look like an engagement photo? It’s cool to be jeally of my beagle romance. Whatevs.
Sunday I made another batch of magic face potion (which seems to be working!), made some vegan almond joys (recipe to come), had a little photo shoot and caught up on some Hart of Dixie. In that clusterfudge of photos above, you can also see the unicorn puke left over from some crafting, Zigz learning how to role play without feeling silly from Cosmo and a personal sized vegan apple crumble made by yours truly.

Linking up with Sami.

November goals

by 4 Comments

I’m a week late for this whole November goals thing, but I’ve finally disposed of the insect-infested pumpkins and I no longer feel bombarded by spirit gummed on fake scars (although some guy decided to send me this yesterday), so I’m doing it now. These are the things I hope to accomplish this month:
Get my headlight changed. This may sound simple, but considering it took me over two months to get the last one changed, this might be more difficult than it seems.
Drink 3 liters of water a day. I’ve been going strong since Monday and I’m pretty sure I’m squeezing in extra cardio running back and forth from the bathroom every five minutes. I’ve also been drinking my magic face potion like a champ.
Volunteer. I’ve been extremely aware of my inability to help others monetarily lately and I would like to know that at least some of my time is spent in a charitable way.
Three long runs. Last Saturday I got a 6 mile run in, but it’s been too many weeks since I completed an actual long run (or fell during a run for that matter!). I’d also really like it if my body would allow me to wake up even just 30 flipping minutes earlier so I could run while the sun is still up (this time change is destroying my cardio routine), and while we’re on the subject, I aim to find the mythical marathon I’ve been training for so that I can sign up for it as soon as my bank account will allow.
Make horchata. Partly because of the Vampire Weekend song but mostly because it sounds delicious and I’ve never had it.
Acquire these leggings. I’ve been obsessing for too long. I need a pair. Does anyone know if they run big or small? Homegirl’s got a booty.
Finish a book. I’m currently reading two, but sometimes I stretch one book into several months because I forget or I just don’t make time for it. November, I think, is a perfectly perfect month to make time for reading. And tea drinking. And cuddling. All of which I hope to do this month.
Here’s my week in fitness (notice the lack of runnage? So sad):
Saturday: 6 mile run
Monday: Abs playlist
Thursday: Total Body Playlist x2
What are your goals this month?

With one headlight

by 6 Comments

I think I failed to tell you guys about my broken headlight. See, a couple months ago one of my headlights went out for presumably the first time since I was 15 (yea, Betty’s getting old and so am I. Are they really supposed to last nine years?), so obviously, knowing I’m inadequate when it comes to vehicular and life-icular things, I put off replacing it for as long as I could. Like, I drove around for at least two months with one headlight, Wallflowers style. After my dad reminded me 647 times and I was all dressed up for a bloggy photo shoot with nowhere to go, I decided to go do the damn thing. 
After a weird phone call that went something like, “Hey, my headlight is out. Can I come in to have it fixed?” “Uh… hang on. Hey Mike.. Feel like changing a headlight? ha..ha… yea, come in.” I went in to have an awkward exchange with Mike about “Who told you we change headlights?” and “Yea, we don’t usually do this.” Okay, so naturally I wanted to leave as soon as possible and said no when he asked, “Do you want to replace both of them?” This was on a Sunday. That Monday morning when I went to unlock my car, I saw that the other headlight is now out. And thus the cycle starts over. I’ll keep you updated on how long it takes me finally call back awkward Mike. 
But on a more exciting note, Coach is back on “New Girl,” annnnd I bought tickets to see Not So Silent Night 2013 in Oakland December 6! It’s going to be rad. In celebration, I made this playlist featuring all the bands that will be performing. Enjoy your Thursday, my friends.

What I wore

by 7 Comments

This was right before Ziggy decided to run after a guy and his dog and completely sell me out for taking pictures of myself.
Shirt: Lulu’s / Pants: Kohl’s / Booties: some boutique in SF

I found this creek behind my apartment. That’s the thing about this place. Everywhere I go I find something new. Every time I go running, I discover a new park, trail or body of water. Every time I drive, I notice new hills or windmills or new songs on the radio. When I hike, I see skunks or wild turkeys or slugs. And every time I make my way into the city itself, I fall deeply in love with every new thing I see. The trees, the Bay Bridge, the eccentric man trying to sell me silver, the statue I never noticed before and the tourists that actually think I can help them with directions. I’m not always confident in the decisions I make, but this is the best kind of validation I could ask for. I mean, even Ziggy looks happier here with those floppy beagle ears.

PS: Use the code “FALLMOMTEN” at Kohls to save 10% now through December

Linking up here.

Magic face potion

by 9 Comments

Okay, full disclosure: I’m not sure that it’s magic face potion yet, but one of the crazy awesome writers at XOvain swears by it, and that’s enough for me. It’s cane and arrowroot stock boiled. In fact, this magic face potion was the sole reason for my journey to Chinatown on Saturday (the delicious food and libations were just an awesome bonus). We wandered into a rando market where I asked the lady where the cane and arrowroot stock was, to which I received a puzzled look and a, “Is that Chinese?” Of course, I immediately felt racist and assumed I was looking for a Japan-specific soup stock, but was super pumped to notice a big ole bag of it just as we were about to walk out. At a whopping 75 cents per bag, I bought two and went on my merry way.
This is what it looks like. It’s supposed to cure acne. Oh, did I forget to tell you that my skin has reverted back to high school lately? Yea, cool. Not even just my face either. My back, neck and shoulders are breaking out, too. There were some elbow zits in there, also, which were really just confusing for me. I blame the asphalt and ghetto-sporin from my concrete-eating runs for those though. As for the rest of it, I guess we could take bad diet, poor hydration, cold weather, lack of birth control pills and trying a slew of new facial creams/makeup products for work into consideration, but I’m still going to pout about it. And drink the crap out of some arrowroot juice, of course.
I dumped the bag (dried carrots and all) into boiling water and let it boil for about an hour before turning it down to a simmer and leaving it alone for a few hours. Eventually I strained out the solid stuff and distributed the urine-like liquid into mason jars to chill in the fridge. I’ve polished off two jars so far, one yesterday and one today. It’s definitely not delicious. In fact it’s kind of gross, but there’s sugar cane in there so at least it’s kind of sweet? I don’t know, I’ll keep you guys updated so you don’t have to suffer through drinking it unless it works. In the meantime I’ll also be chugging down 3 liters of water a day and using my newly purchased Proactiv religiously. I haven’t been this motivated since, well, probably middle school when this whole ridiculous acne business started in the first place. 
This just seems appropriate.
Pinterest
Instagram
Tiktok