Every other week I rattle on and on about ways to incorporate healthy choices into your lifestyle. Whether it’s tips for staying motivated, reasons you should avoid alcohol, or how to recover from a weekend warrior session, I try to keep you on track to reaching your fitness goals.
But let’s face it, sometimes you just don’t want to think about being healthy. You just want to INDULGE and with the holidays upon us, we are surrounded by temptation. Naturally there are tons of articles floating around about how make healthy choices even when you’re bombarded by office holiday parties and family get togethers. Well, in true Lazy Girl fashion, I say: screw it. Don’t worry about your diet this month. Sometimes you need to embrace your inner fat kid and give ‘em some cake. And since I’m advising all of you to throw caution to the wind when it comes to diet and exercise, this week’s column is going to be a list of my favorite things about the holiday season. You’ll note how most of them are food and the rest are related to sleeping or lounging. Keep reading »
Premenstrual syndrome (PMS) is a combination of physical and emotional symptoms including bloating, cramps, headache, and mood swings that occurs consistently during the ten days prior to the start of menstrual flow and vanishes either shortly before or shortly thereafter. In other words, it’s what I like to call Hell Week, and that’s a drastic understatement.
In addition to the aforementioned typical symptoms, I also experience extreme fatigue, intense food cravings, insatiable hunger, unpredictable bouts of crying, and sporadic emotional meltdowns that often result in reevaluation of every major and minor life decision I’ve ever made. As I sit on the couch drowning Oreos in gallons of milk and contemplating joining the Peace Corps, it’s hard to remember these symptoms are just temporary. One Hell Week left me with a visceral hatred for my husband after he flushed my Oreos down the toilet. In retrospect, I can’t blame him. He watched in absolute horror and disgust as I shoved whole cookies, two at a time, into my mouth leaving crumbs all over my face and chest in a futile attempt to eat my fabricated pain away. He likened me to a crack fiend, so flushing the cookies down the toilet was probably a necessary intervention. Keep reading »
We’d like to believe that the best way to break up with a person is to sit down with them face-to-face and have an honest, open discussion about why you feel the relationship should no longer continue. After a calm, mature discussion, you will both come to the amicable conclusion that the relationship isn’t working for either of you. You’ll share a friendly hug, and part ways saying, “I’m so glad we’re still friends.”
Can someone tell me on what planet this actually happens? I’d like to go there. It sounds tranquil and civilized. Keep reading »
Inspired by #ICantDateYou trending on Twitter last week, I thought it would be fun to reveal the truth behind why I dumped some of my exes.
I’ve been dumped quite a bit in my life, but I’ve also been the dumper. Neither scenario is fun, but I think I’d rather be the one getting dumped than the one doing the dumping. There’s just too much guilt being the dumper. Most of the time, the guy didn’t see it coming so I tried to let him down gently. I came up with all kinds of excuses like “I’m not ready for the kind of relationship you want” or “You deserve someone better,” the latter being a bold faced lie. I mean, you don’t dump someone who’s too good for you! If you have half a brain in your head, you’ll ride that gravy train for as long as possible. Duh. The vague “It’s not you, it’s me” was a popular one but I usually stuck with “I think we should see other people.” I just left out “… because you [insert deal breaker here].” Keep reading »
I’m just going to come clean: I hate every woman my husband has ever dated.
I won’t apologize for it or try to get over it. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I will always hate them to some degree, depending on the depth of their relationship. If she was a random hook up, I’ll hate her slightly less than if she was a serious long term girlfriend. Regardless, I hate them all. Keep reading »
If I hadn’t witnessed it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it. My friends and I stumbled into a crowded bar for some after-dinner drinks one night and, within 30 minutes, my friend Aaron had the waitress’s phone number. Not that surprising since Aaron is a tall, good-looking guy who always seems to have a harem; but his technique was unorthodox to say the least. He stood in her way whenever the waitress walked past us. He would interrupt her while she was taking orders from other customers. He sent his drink back three times, citing something absurd each time — “not enough gin … not enough tonic … I asked for a martini … I’m just a pain in the ass.” If I were her, I would have sent another server to our table but she GAVE him her phone number and he didn’t even ASK for it.
What the…? Yeah, I’m not really sure either. Keep reading »
You meet a great guy. You start dating. At first you’re seeing each other once or twice a week and after a month it’s up to three or four. You start having sleepovers and pretty soon there’s “the toothbrush discussion.” Then one day you wake up and can’t remember the last time you actually slept at your own place; it’s just an expensive unkempt storage unit and you have the dust bunnies and dead plants to prove it.
Considering that you spend almost all of your time at your boyfriend’s place, moving in together is just easier. And there are some pretty logical advantages. Keep reading »
You think he’s an idiot. He thinks you’re a nut case. You insist he doesn’t understand you. He insists you’re a nut case. You get angry and maybe even cry. He shrugs his shoulders, assumes it’s a personal problem that has nothing to do with him, and chalks all it up to you being an overly emotional irrational nut case.
Sound painfully familiar? Keep reading »