No Gold Star for Gold’s

Recently I had a weird, semi-angry, totally awkward Twitter exchange with someone that left me promising I’d never make fun of anyone else on my blog except for myself. 

And then I received this in the mail:

This is a letter I received from a sales guy at Gold’s gym.  I went ahead and highlighted the glaring grammatical errors for easy reading.

If I indeed was supposed to be on a TRAIL for the last 30 days, then I heinously misunderstood what I was getting in to.  This whole time I thought it was a trial! 

Other obvious observations: It’s well, not good.  You’re not your.  And GONNA!?  Really Reggie?  Really?  On a work note?!

Well if they didn’t hook me with their in-gym meatballs, they certainly aren’t going to keep me with their letter writing skills.

At least he spelled his name right…

Moving Still

Guess what! I’m moving. Well kind of. Ok not really. I was supposed to close on a house today and move this weekend. But that is so not happening. In worst-timing-ever news, the owner of the house we are buying got in a bike accident and is now in the hospital with a punctured lung and broken ribs.

This sucks for several reasons. 1) He punctured his lung and broke some ribs. That is never good. 2) None of the repairs we requested were done on the house we wanted to buy before said accident. 3) They might not be done for months because the person doing them was the owner (aka, the person in the hospital).

I don’t want to be selfish here, but wtf are the chances!? Now I seriously have no idea when/if we can move into this house.

I do know one thing though. If I ever get a moving truck again, I’m NEVER using Budget rental vans.

When I moved out of my apartment in Washington, DC I was allowed exactly 2 hours to use the freight elevator and loading dock. My time frame was from 9-11am.

I got up early with my boyfriend, went to the address listed on my rental truck reservation ready to get my move on, and subsequently shat my pants when I got there and saw that the address was an abandoned building. I just knew this was not going to be “my day”.

I called Budget and informed them that this reservation they confirmed was to a place that did not exist. They referred me to another location in the even more ghetto part of DC. I got to location #2 only to discover that it is just a trailer in a shitty parking lot with one truck to be seen – a 16-wheeler with a missing side-view mirror. That confirmed all suspicions that today was going to suck ass.

I go inside the trailer, tell the man in charge that I desperately need a truck ASAP because I have no time to waste (mind you this was nearing 9am by this point), and the company already screwed me over once. Even the busted ass truck in the parking lot was not available. He kindly referred me to the nearest Budget dealer in Leesburg, VA. I kindly burst into tears.

I’d never been to Leesburg before, but I can now tell you that it’s about 45 minutes from DC. Just enough time to totally miss the window in which I was allowed to move. The trip was made even longer by the fact that my boyfriend didn’t bring his cell phone and didn’t have GPS, so I had to go 25 mph all the way back to DC so he could follow me, while ensuring that I stayed in the 1 inch peripheral that he could see out of the sides of the giant rental truck.

The rest of the day was filled with me begging perfect strangers to let me hop on the freight elevator with them…and my couch; having a new tenant move in my apartment while I was still trying to move out; then also moving my boyfriend into the truck out of his apartment, which consisted of a shit ton of trash bags and me eating lots of Peruvian chicken while pouting on his velour couch.

The moral of the story is this: Use Two Men and a Truck. I used them when I moved from Chapel Hill and it was the best money that I my husband’s new company ever spent. They were right on time (nay, early), did not complain one single time or threaten to kill my husband (which is what I usually do when I move), were incredibly nice and polite, and even told my mom we looked like sisters.

I think if we ever do move into this house in question in Wilmington, we will just move ourselves. But I would sacrifice a year’s worth of manicures and pedicures if it meant I could use Two Men and Truck again. You best believe that customer satisfaction survey was filled with nothing but accolades and gold stars.

Until then…mom and dad, you’re running low on wine at the beach house. Time to come back stock up :) ...Surely I jest?!

Diveats - Asian Marinated Flank Steak with Wasabi Mashed Potatoes

During my hardcore stint at Gold's Gym, I found this recipe in Fitness Magazine and ripped that sucker right out of the magazine.

Asian Marinated Flank Steak with Wasabi Mashed Potatoes.

I love it when a recipe calls for unique ingredients. 2 I've never used before were Sriracha and Wasabi paste. It also called for Sesame oil, but that was like $7 so I just used Olive Oil.


Hey new friends!

I have never made mashed potatoes before and they were surprisingly easy! I can't wait to try them again of the more American persuasion.


Finished product:


I thought that each item separately was a little too "unique". But somehow, when you pair them together, they were dynamite!

I can't wait to find more uses for my new ingredients! I've heard some people say they put Sriracha on everything. Any suggestions!?

On the real

Have you heard of this book: Maggie Goes on a Diet?

I heard Ryan Seacrest and his radio friends talking about it on Sirius/XM and apparently it's very controversial!

It's about a young, overweight girl who goes on a diet and then becomes skinny and awesome and good at soccer. Some people are pissed because they think it suggests that you are only a worthy child if you are skinny.

I disagree there and think it's great to promote healthy eating and exercise for kids. But maybe it could be called Maggie Gets Healthy, thereby not encouraging pre-teens to start their vicious cycle of dieting before they even hit puberty.

I also think it's irresponsible to suggest that skinniness and athletic ability go hand-in-hand. I was skinny for the first 20 years of my life and I have never been able to kick, throw, hit, or catch a ball. Does not relate.

Also, the cover art clearly indicates body dysmorphic disorder. I think that's a little too intense for young readers. They are probably more likely to go for a cover of a girl binge eating Birthday cake or passing out on the soccer field from over-exhaustion...I kid. I kid. Childhood obesity is no joke!

Have any of you out there read this book? Would you read it to your kids?

No Zzzz's for Me

It’s official. I have completely forgotten how to fall asleep at night.

It used to just take me about 2 painful hours of changing positions to nod off. Then I’d sleep like a baby.

Now I can’t fall asleep for good within even 4 hours. Even if I’ve had the better part of a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. Wine used to be my antidote. Now it’s another culprit on the list of kryptonite that prevents my Zzzzz’s.

Do you have any suggestions of how to fall asleep at night? My sister taught me something where she says to God or the Sleep King or whoever, “Thank you for this chance to sleep. I am so grateful for this chance to rest.” I tried that and then like 3 hours later I was like, “Ok Sleep King. You just made enemies with the wrong insomniac! We's about to fight!”

It’s getting to the point where my adorable husband breaths peacefully next to me sleeping, and all I can think of is the injustice in the fact that it takes him 5 minutes to fall asleep and me more like 5 hours. Don’t I deserve that too!?

And don’t even get me started on airplanes. Unless it’s a 45 minutes flight, I always feel violently jealous of the strangers head-bobbing allover my shoulder when I can’t even doze off for a quick power nap on an intercontinental flight.

How do you fall asleep!? Apparently for me, it is not like riding a bike. I forgot how and now I’m a sleepy, sleepy girl.

Hair Do me wrong

Did I ever tell you about the time I got the best/worst haircut of my life?

It actually wasn’t best or worst because of the cut of the hair. It was because of the cutter of the hair.

I have had your obligatory heinous haircuts throughout the years – accidental undercuts, redneck layers, pseudo-mom do’s, etc.

But this one was just your average trim…mixed in with a few extra fabulous pieces.

I went with my mom to get her haircut from the same man she has been going to for decades. His name is Steve, he wears Wranglers, and has a mustache and a wife, but I don’t know if I can ever believe that a man who cuts women’s hair is not gay.

Especially when I met the guy who cut my hair. He was borderline fabulous, with a pitchy voice and a gay lisp. But he also has a wife…so who knows about that.

All I know is that 2 minutes into my shampoo, he became completely obsessed with reshaping my eyebrows. He asked once. I said no. He asked again. I said maybe next time. Then he all but refused to cut my hair unless I let him shape my eyebrows.

That’s when I relinquished and went back to the beauty corner. 5 minutes later, after just one “Oops… there’s a little blood here,” I had reshaped eyebrows.

Then, after cutting my hair while making many, many puns about my last name (“I hope you aren’t in a RUSH!!”), he asked me if he could braid my hair since I was going to the gym.

I said yes because the only thing I love more in life than Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness, is people playing with my hair. We had the best conversation, I was pumped about my new brows, and I even bought a product when checking out because I liked the guy so much. (I NEVER buy product.)

That’s when I saw the total, $89.00. I have paid more than $20 for a haircut approximately 2 other times in my life, but I felt good about this one because I liked the stylist so much.

Sure, I walked out of there wearing French-braid pigtails and bloody eyebrows, but it was worth it for the company of the flaming non-gay man (FNGM).

Cut to an hour later. My mom informing me that her haircut only cost $40 and my dad alerting that I am a sucker with "flat" eyebrows. That FNGM had charged me for the whole kit and caboodle, including the forced eyebrow reshaping and the voluntary braided pigtails!!!

I would have started crying if I didn’t feel so dead inside. I was jipped by one of the most sacred relationships a woman can have – with her hairdresser.

I am never venturing outside of Great Clips for as long as my limp locks can handle it. It may be completely devoid of any scalp massaging or even shampoo, but I know that Great Clips will never promise me more than a few sprays from a spray bottle and cut from a kind lady whose baby is not related to her husband.

Decal Families - Turbo Edition

This just in from the diva tip line...

This has got to be that guy from the TLC show "Sister Wives". It is a Utah license plate...Except this guy only has 3 wives and Mr. Sister Wives has 4. Maybe he's waiting until he gets paid for Season 2 before he springs for the 4th wife's sticker replica.

That's a whole lots of stickers and babies!

Tech Glitch

Have you seen the recent commercials for PCs? When some unknowing consumer goes out of their house and these people come in a remodel the whole living room to look like a computer store?

I would be so pissed if someone remodelled my den!

Me thinks that the "non actors" in these commercials are the same ones in the recent Febreeze commercials that are placed in some wretched dungeon and claim that it smells like a field of daises. (i.e., more actual than "non" and more paid than found on the street).

There is no way someone just go "Oh my...gasp! You changed my house! Te he he."

I would be like, "WTF you mu*$@& fuc#@&4! Get out of my house!" And then I'd probably mace them.

Don't mess with a woman's sense of design. Especially if it's for the sake of technology. It will not translate.

Diveats - Steak Salad Vinaigrette Dressing

Tonight I made a salad with steak on it, but I wanted a different dressing than the usual suspects in the fridge.

I feel like when I eat steak it needs to be special. However, I didn't want to use a creamy dressing, because I wanted there to be a lighter aspect to this decadent salad topping.

I decided on this recipe for the dressing and I thought it was out of this world. It actually made too much for 2 salads, but that's ok! Just save the extra to pour on something else!

In a small bowl combine:

- A 1/6 cup of olive oil

- 1.5 TBS of red wine vinegar

- 1/2 clove of minced garlic

- 1 TBS lemon juice

- 1/2 tsp of Worcestershire sauce

- Dash of salt

- Dash of Pepper

Wisk together and dress salad. Enjoy!

I highly recommend this. It's mostly stuff you have in the pantry and it's delicious. Win, win!

Eaty Meaty

Just when I thought Gold’s Gym couldn’t get anymore hardcore (see previous post here), I noticed this week that next to the refrigerator filled with Powerade and Gatorade, there is a refrigerator filled with “In Motion Meals”. These meals include such things as meatballs and something called “Beefed-Up Madness”

I mean, I have just never, ever heard of a fitness facility serving meatballs. That seems counterproductive to me, but that’s probably because I want to lose weight, instead of increase my muscle mass and combine my head, neck, and shoulders into one entity.

My 30 day trial is almost over. It’s soon back to long walks on the beach and not feeling inferior for my 5lb dumbbells!

Ba-Na-Nas

Last night I watched my first full episode of The Rachel Zoe Project. And, like her, I LITERALLY DIE.

She and her husband and her entourage are the post ridiculously over the top, dramatic, divas I’ve ever seen on television. So over the top, in fact, that I actually respect it.

I love that A) She is so skinny that she “keeps forgetting I’m pregnant” and B) Her husband is not afraid to tell her that if her new clothing line fails she’s just going to be “in her 50s with a bunch of kids”. This is kind because she’s not even 40, and supportive because they are his kids too.

Everything she says is “Bananas”, “My life”, or “Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God.” I wish I could get away with being that dramatic on an everyday basis. But then again I don’t know anything about fashion, my husband doesn’t flat-iron his hair, and I probably eat Rachel’s body weight on any given day.

Yay!

I love a good TV show!

Last night I watched 2 new shows that were hilarious and sentimental. That is pretty much all I want in life.

First up during the 10pm spot was "Up All Night" with Christina Applegate and Will Arnett. It is a hilarious comedy about new parents trying to keep it real despite the fact that they have a baby.

Favorite character: Maya Rudolph as Ava, the ridic Oprah-esque talk show host.

Favorite quote: "I'm sooo hungover." "Well, you know who's not!? THAT BABY!"

Second, at 10:30pm, was "Free Agents". While Frank Azria has always had a soft spot in my heart, this only made me love him more. So far it's like a hilarious romantic story. Yes please!

I thought these were both uniquely engaging shows for a sitcom. They made me laugh, and even made me tear up a little. I did not want them to end! And now I'm tired as hell but that's the price I pay for being a dedicated TV-addict. It was worth it for these great finds.

I am already excited for next Wednesday...and subsequently dreading Thursday morning!

Lap of Luxury Indeed

Holy amazing invention.

Check out the Laps of Luxury Pet Beds website here. It's just like a real human's crotch! If that human wears solely different varieties of denim.

There's not much I can say that the beds don't say for themselves.

But I will say that I'd choose Red Hot Mama, while always wondering if the Urban Cowgirl comes with an authentic camel toe.

Diveats - Made from scratch pizza

Last night I asked my husband to pick something for dinner. The world was his oyster. And his oyster was filled with pizza!!

FYI Pizza dough is not easy to manipulate. Hence the totally misshapen pizzas.

3 doughs, 3 varieties.

#1 Prosciutto di parma, mozzarella, onion, and really light sauce.
#2 Tomato slices, mozzarella, basil
#3 Pepperoni, onion, red pepper, mozzarella, tomato sauce


The Prisciutto pizza was really the piece de resistance. It got all crispy and salty and heavenly in the oven.



Cold draught beer, side salad, and some delicious pizza!
Ain't that America!

Babies R'nt Us...yet

It's the dawn of a new era. I have a pregnant friend.

I have plenty of wonderful cousins and relatives who have adorable babies. But this will be my first real, my-age friend who is pregnant.

I am so unbelievably excited for her, and I am going to ask her every personal detail I can think of for my future experiences. But I am glad it's her, not me. At least for now.

I know that I know that I am not ready to have a baby for several "little reasons":

*I'm basically like a half-adult.

*The thought of not having an ice cold beer after work on a Friday makes me cringe.

*I don't even work on Fridays.

*I'm married, but haven't been for very long.

*I have a job, but I only work 3 days a week (best thing EVER, by the way).

*I live in a nice house. I live with my parents.

*I pay my credit card bill, but all the charges are from bars, hotel rooms from wedding weekends, or Jersey Mikes.

*Babies love me, but I think it's more because we are thinking the same thing than that I'm maternal.

I can't wait to have a baby in a few years, but I hope it hits me when I'm ready. Right now I am still wishing I was 22, just graduating from college, on the cusp of fresh awesome memories and zero responibilities, the tailend of my metabolism, and the ability to stay up past midnight drinking without wanting to die in the morning.

Baby, if you're out there. Sit tight. It's going to be a while.

SMG

Anyone see the previews for The Ringer on the CW? Well it premieres tonight at 9pm, and it features a main character named Siobhan. Yes, that’s really how it’s spelled.

The only thing that would make me happier than Sarah Michelle Gellar making her TV comeback as a character named Siobhan (pronounced, Shivon), would be if Whitney Houston made her music comeback by singing the theme song to the show – “My Name is Not Siobhan”…It’s funny because the show is about a case of mistaken identity (her "name is not" Siobhan)…And because it’s a terrible name.

I know I’ll be tuning in!

Miss Matthews

Recently one of my husband's friends moved to Wilmington, DE. That in itself is not funny, because according to him Delaware is the "black hole" of connections and he knows no one there.

But what is funny is that I used to be from Wilmington, DE. That was when I was going by the name of Marilyn Matthews. A sprightly young 21 year old from the second smallest state in the country.

That was the alias I chose for my fake ID when I was in high school. Clever, I know! And I kept it until one fateful day, my sophomore year of college. A bunch of my older sorority sisters had a big party and most of the people there drinking were not of legal age. Yes that is illegal. But nothing really bad was happening...until the undercover cops showed up.

I was trying to be inclusive when I saw the one lonely non-white person wandering around. That should have been a huge, on-fire, burning red flag, because the Greek scene at UNC isn't exactly diverse. But no. My roommate and I walked right up to him and tried to engage him so that he wouldn't be alone.

Brace yourself here, because this is going to shock you: He was not the lonely over-sized college kid that my naive 19 year old eyes initially saw. He was a 30-something, African-American, A.L.E. agent. And he was about to eff our shit up.

I am not exaggerating when I say that approximately 40 people got drinking tickets that night. Seriously, so many people got tickets that they ended up dropping them all because apparently the way in which the agents dolled them out (trespassing without probably cause, or something like that) was not justified.

The lawyer that represented me was actually one of the attorneys in the Duke Lacrosse lawsuit. Apparently he specialized in cases of Rape, Murder, and drunk sorority girls actin' a fool. He actually just did it because he was a friend of my dad's. And he let me pay in him in chocolates. (He has since passed away, sadly).

One girl even got her foot run over during the mayhem/teenagers fleeing the scene, and the "agents" didn't even try to help her. How's that for enforcement?

Back to the main character here: Marilyn Matthews. Well apparently Marilyn Matthews is a bitch when she gets drunk. Because she did NOT like getting a ticket. And she was NOT afraid to tell the police officer that. Especially when said officer confiscated not only my fake ID, but my GD scuba diving license.

In her defense it is because I claimed that was the only ID I had. In my defense, DUH, I didn't want to give up my fake ID.

So there I was. Back to being a future-sober sophomore that couldn't even drown my sorrows with an underwater scuba excursion if I wanted to.

Naturally I turned to food. Easy Mac to be exact. I was drunk, I was pissed, and I was in the mood for some 3 minute macaroni. I placed my 20 cent meal in my 40 cent plastic bowl and pressed play on the microwave. When I took the bowl out 2 minutes later to add the cheese powder to the mix, damned if I didn't spill that hot bowl of hard noodles right through my Michael Starrs shirt.

Not only was that the last time I could wear a One-Size-Fits-All article of clothing. It was also the last time I could say that I did not have a 3rd-degree burn caused my macaroni and cheese.

The rest of the night was filled with 3 drunk girls trying to solve the riddle of how to stop my flesh from disappearing. Tried and failed attempts included cold rags, warm rags, slices of cheese, and blowing.

None of that worked, but it sure is nice to know that your roomies will be there for you when a terrible science experiment drunk-eating episode goes wrong.

I still have a scar now. But let me tell you something. When you burn the shit out of your stomach with a processed cheese treat, after getting a drinking ticket and mouthing off to a cop, you don't get a lot of sympathy from your parents or the local student health caretaker.

RIP Marilyn Matthews.

* I haven't touched a bowl of Easy Mac since.

Movie Review: Just Go With It

I hesitantly watched Just Go With It last night, with Adam Sandler, Brooklyn Decker, and Jennifer Aniston. I was hesitant because I loathe movies with a plot that revolves around easily avoidable chaos that is caused by one character’s pointless lie.

I could tell from the previews this movie was going to be just that. But I gave it a shot.

For the first hour, I was equal parts annoyed and entertained. But I swear I did not stop laughing the whole time. Even with a storyline that revolved around poop jokes, fake accents, and boob references, something about the dialogue in an Adam Sandler movie is, without fail, FU-NNY!

The last hour was pure pleasure, laughter, and happy endings. Just the way I like my Rom-Coms.

Adam Sandler is so charming in a role that finally does not have him mocking mentally challenged people. And Jennifer Aniston is spot on, hilarious, and beautiful. And Brooklyn Decker sure as shit ain’t going to win an Academy Award, but she’s cute and hot so who cares.

Rent this. If it doesn’t make you laugh out loud, I’ll personally reimburse you for the $1 Redbox fee.

It takes two

Yesterday my husband informed me that he bought a surfboard. I'd been trying to talk him out of it all summer, but now I'm glad he got the damn thing so he can stop talking about it.

He claimed he got a good deal because the owner was originally asking $550 and he got it for $450. I don't usually talk about specific dollar amounts because I think it's rude. But for the sake of impact, I had to here. Because guess what husband, that’s still a buttload of money.

If I wanted to buy a dress that was originally $1000 it wouldn't exactly be a "good deal" if I talked the seller down to $900. Anyway, the funniest apart about the whole conversation was what reaffirmed my notion that he should never, ever be a salesperson.

He actually said, "Oh, well maybe you could go out with me sometime. The guy who sold it to me said it was really great for couples' surfing." And, yes, he meant on the same surfboard. He was trying hard to make me feel good about that $550.

Yeeeah...No. I don't even swim in the ocean for fear of sharks, and I sure as hell am not about to linger out there for hours every afternoon while my husband learns how to surf with me on the board. That can't be good for our relationship. And I know I can't be good for his buoyancy.

Weakling

Recently I decided to sign up for a 30-day risk free trial at the Gold’s Gym near my house. Since I won’t be living there forever (God willing), I didn’t want to get forced into some 6-year gym contract, so this seemed like a good alternative to either signing away my life or walking the same 4ish mile path for the 600th time outside.

I have always heard that Gold’s Gym is a pretty hardcore gym for weight lifters and meat heads. And now I know I heard right.

I think I am the only patron in there that doesn’t have 6 pack abs and/or arm muscles the size of the average thigh. That being said, when I walked in there last week with my book in hand, ready to sit back on the bike and pedal for a bit, I got some really disapproving stares. Not only was I not wearing weight lifting gloves or carrying around literature about muscle mass and cardio intervals, I was reading the popular tween trilogy Catching Fire. So not physically fit.

I am enjoying my brief stint at Gold’s Gym, but whenever my trial is up I think I might have to go back to walking at a steady 15-minute mile pace on a flat concrete road. The only other athletes I pass there are pre-teens and senior citizens on their Beach Cruisers. They are really more on my fitness level.

Last Pedi of Summer

This totally pointless sign is hanging up in the local salon my mom and I go to. NAILS.

Thank you Captain Obvious!

That's like if you worked in a sandwich shop and just put up pictures of sandwiches with the word Sandwiches. Obvious...yes. But effective...no.

I'm too sexy for my regular head

My sister sent me this picture. She found these "manniquens" in the front display of a very fancy department store in London.

What the hell? Is alien-baby chic a new thing that I missed by not buying last month's In Style magazine? If alien-baby-head-style is right, I DO want to be wrong.

My sister said she could be a model for this store on a day with a really bad hangover. :)

Mrs. Awkward

Changing your name when you get married is so weird. I am definitely still trying to get used to it. I always feel like I have to explain myself when I meet someone that knows my parents or family, but don’t know that I’m related to them. Like, “I’m Jane Dear. I used to be Jane Doe. You might know my parents, John and Jane Doe. So basically I’m Jane Doe Dear. Part of the Doe family.” Oops, I’ve said too much.

That might make little sense, but basically I just live in an area where some people know my extended family and I feel the need to inform people that I am part of a real family, and not a random solitary transplant from planet “OH MY GOD I'M AWKWARD.”

The first time I felt really stupid about it was when I went with my parents and sister to my dad’s boarding school for a reunion sort of thing right after I got married. Everyone was John Doe, Jane Doe, and Sister Doe, and then here comes random ol’ me with this unmatched last name out of nowhere (My husband wasn’t there, to make matters me more awkward). Then I ended up sounding like a baby explaining like, “That’s my dad, and my mom, and my sister.” Like maybe I was reminding myself of my family tree because I’m so “simple” that I might get lost later and need someone to call my parents.

It didn’t help that I was wearing a blazer that made me look like the manager of a local Hampton Inn. People probably thought I crashed the party and was soliciting hospitality services.

I love my husband, adore his family, and feel like a confident, capable person with my new name. But I’m still thinking that a strong hyphen might have added to my ability to socialize.