F is for Friday

So,I bought a cheap treadmill off of Craigslist. It's terribly loud, and an eyesore in my bedroom, but it works, and it will prevent me from a) sitting on the couch all winter and b) running outside in a blizzard when it starts to snow.

I'm pretty sure my treadmill is going to be my new boyfriend. We're going to spend all sorts of quality time together, and probably watch sitcoms together, and maybe I'll cheat on him with the couch, but he'll always take me back.

Maybe if I tell my coworkers that I have a new boyfriend, they'll stop trying to set me up with every single guy they meet? They don't need to know my boyfriend is a piece of exercise equipment.

I weighed myself the other day, and I cried.

Sometimes that happens.

I did squats and lunges across my bedroom to make my jeans fit today. Damn you, casual Friday!

Tomorrow I'm going to a coworker's wedding, and my date is my 50-year-old female coworker. I'm basing my outfit entirely around my hot pink stilettos. It turns out that not a lot goes with hot pink stilettos.

My life is ridiculous, and so am I.

This must be what heaven is like.

It's all about the outfit.

So, for my b-day, I was gifted a running skirt and sparkly running headband by a very dear friend.

She knows me so well.

The only reason I do anything is for the cute outfits. Fishing? Cute outfit. Hunting? Cute outfit, though orange isn't my color.

I am all about accessorizing.

I fail at blogging lately, so that's my attempt. You're welcome.

Love.

Me: (admiring the "bikini" t-shirt Robin was wearing on a re-run of How I Met Your Mother) I so want one of those shirts.

Shawna: What shirts?

Me: The one Robin is wearing.

Shawna: Oh, cool.

...

Twelve minutes later.

...

Shawna: Leslie, don't you want one of those shirts, didn't you tell me that one time?

Me: Yeah. I just told you that a few minutes ago, actually.

This is my life, people.

Hair.

Oh hey. I went blonde. I feel like my life is just ridiculous lately, so it was totally time for a new hair color.

I told Shawna last night that a year ago I never would have thought I would be blonde, have a tattoo, be 40 pounds heavier, and have gone through all the crap I went through. Life is surprising.

Oh yeah, my pants don't fit right now. Don't judge. It's been a rough few months!

Vote for us!

Go vote here, for the gnome table.

Look, this is our house.

So is this.

You know you love gnomes. And unicorns.

All you have to do is "like" the photo on ReadyMade's page. It's easy! It'll take two seconds during your busy schedule of Facebook stalking!

Thank you.

Why I run...

Last night, I remembered some things about being me. I decided to go for a run, mainly because I obligated myself to run a 5k on December 4 (thanks, Gabe and Chelse, otherwise I would have sat on the couch). For the first time in awhile, I felt like myself again.

Over the past few months, I've had some serious roadblocks when it came to running. Sometimes it was physical pain, sometimes it was emotional pain, sometimes it was just the inability to motivate myself. I let myself fall into the trap of not caring enough about myself to be healthy, and feeling like I wasn't worth much. That's not a place I would like to be again.

So I set out last night, on a pleasant evening with cool fall temperatures. Leaves are changing so I was surrounded by oranges and reds, and a pretty sunset. My feet hit the pavement in rhythm, and for 4 miles, I was able to just be me. And I was happy.

I've tried to experiment with group running events, and running with friends, and while I enjoy it, for some reason it just isn't the same as a run by myself where I have time to think. Last night I thought about love, and loss, and how even if I don't feel anything ever again to the degree that I felt previously, at least I am capable of loving that much. I thought about work, and the raise I got yesterday, and what color to paint my toenails, and about how I measure my feelings for a guy by the amount of tingling I feel in my toes when he kisses me. And how that's probably why I should change the way I choose which men to allow in my life. I thought about pumpkins, and how my pants don't fit except for one pair, and how I'm kind of okay with that right now since at least I have been able to get out of bed and go to work. I thought about cowboys, and cocktails, and about how much I love Katy Perry lately. I listened to breakup anthems, and silently thanked Keith Urban for ever recording the song "Stupid Boy." I thought about friendship, and how I'm glad I have people in my life that will send me lists of songs I should listen to while I'm feeling this way, because it really does help. I thought about making drastic hair decisions and how I should probably do something reckless, because if I'm going to be reckless, now is the time to do it. Mostly, I just thought.

Before I knew it, 4 miles had flown by. And I felt stronger than I have in awhile. I felt more like me--and that is why I run.

Wednesday.

I have been watching more episodes of "Weeds" than can ever be good for a person. Soon, however, I will be done with all the seasons that are on the instantly watch section of Netflix. And normal life shall resume.

This weekend I am hosting a bachelorette party and going to Roloff Farms (the pumpkin patch owned by the people on "Little People, Big World"). I know, you're jealous.

Stress relief

Picture this hypothetical situation: You had a rough day at work, perhaps hit your knee on a table edge during a staff meeting... but not in a normal way, in a way that almost made you instantly vomit from pain and come very close to saying, "FUCK" in front of all your coworkers. Just close, mind you. Now your knee is completely doubled in size because it's so swollen, and you think perhaps you're the clumsiest person ever. Now imagine that you are overwhelmed by life, and completely disillusioned by the male race, and really just generally in a pissy mood.

Never happened to you? Yeah, me neither.

But if it had (completely hypothetically) happened to me, and maybe if I couldn't go for a run tonight because I cannot even really walk at the moment, I would have several solutions for this grumpy day.

Solution one:



Beer. Sessions Black Lager. Be still my heart! Also, first pomegranate of the season!!! BOO YAH!

Did I really just say boo yah about a piece of fruit?

Solution two:



That's right, purple sweatpants that are so comfortable it's like you're not wearing pants! And perhaps the t-shirt from your very first 5k, which is old and worn, and possibly stained due to a horrific tomato soup cooking incident in which you burned your tits with pureed tomatoes? That hasn't happened to you either?

...

Yeah, me either.

And finally, solution three:



Pizza dough. Used to make your roommate dinner, while drinking a beer. Because somethings, a girl just needs to punch something. And today that something is a ball of dough.

Teamwork

Shawna and I should not be allowed to play Super Mario Bros together, in the Wii version where two players go through the course together. There was yelling, and each of us killed the other one at some point by going too far ahead.

Clearly, it's beneficial to both of us that we work so well together as roommates. We just can't go on missions to rescue cartoon princesses, that's all.