Death by Bootcamp, brought to you by The Princess of Darkness. Kill me now.

Here it is. The day after my Torture Class, and I want donuts.

Christ on a maple glazed crutch!!!

Oh, wait, let me back up. I haven't told y'all about Death by Bootcamp Torture Class have I?! Well. Just hang on to your ill-fitting sports bras for this jazz.

So my bitch of a friend Tamra, bless her little heart, talked me into working out with a trainer once a week. And this was about 4 or so months ago. This is how I met The Princess of Darkness.....aka Morgan. She is The Evil One. Satan's Mistress. The Chief of Demontorture. The Enemy of Fat Righteousness. The Destroyer of Flabtasticness. Ohhhhh how I love that petite, little, shredded, uber-fit Princess.

And after about 3 months, little Miss Tormentor mentioned that she was starting a 3-day a week bootcamp.....for 12 weeks. Why? Why do you do this to me?!

Of course my little exercise pal Tamra was ALL about it. And of course, she pestered me and bullied me, and finally FORCED me to do it with her.

We're now in Week 2.
I have reached new levels of muscle soreness. Like I can't pee without using the hand-rails so sometimes I hold it so long I contemplate just letting it go in my office chair, but then realize that eventually I'll have to get up and everyone will see that I peed my pants, and I won't have pants to change into. But even if I did have extra pants I couldn't get into them anyway because I can't bent over or move my legs like that anymore because THAT pain is way worse than using the hand rails to squat over the porcelain throne. So, I get up and pee. And save myself once again from embarrassment.

What was I talking about before the peeing?
Oh ya, Week 2.

So, last night, I'm feeling all superpower like and jump my flabby ass on Conveyor Belt of Death (otherwise known as the Treadmill) and decide to warm up by doing a little mile.
I'm feeling good. I'm owning this shit. I'm rocking out.
Mile up!
Sweet! That wasn't so hard!
Let's do this bitches!!

So I stroll all badass-like over to the Personal Training Area and the Queen of Suffering says, 'Why are you all sweaty?'

To which I reply, with a big ol' shit eaten grin, 'I just warmed up! I ran a mile!'

Hippy Skippy and Dolphin Claps for me.

She glances at me, with almost this look of pity, and says, 'Oh, well, then you're not going to like what we're doing today.'

Mother of all things EVIL! She's making us run MORE!!!

I was not prepared for this. I thought my running was done. Whyyyyyyyyyy!?!?!

Oh, and get this! My little partner in crime, Miss Tamra wasn't even there!!! (not that it was her fault, her daughter was sick, but STILL!)  There was only 3 of our 7 ladies there last night. But we three ROCKED IT! We're the A Team! Forshizzle.

The workout started off all 'I can do this!' But that wimpy enthusiasm quickly took a hike. It was four stations, with four exercises each. You did each exercise for 40 seconds then rest for 20. Then you took a quick break and moseyed on down to the track to do a 1/4 of a mile (2 laps).

First rotation.....eh, not bad.
2nd....kinda felt like my lungs were a twinge warm and I had a funny tingling in my legs.
3rd.....pretty sure I was going to die.
4th.....couldn't breathe, seriously contemplated crawling the 20 feet back to our area, and absolutely positive I lost my legs on lap 1.shitmypants.

SEE!!!!!
Morgan's just sooooo mean!

But, I do really love her. Because she's going to destroy my batwings. I just know it.
Right?

RIGHT?!?!

Ok. I don't want donuts now.
I want a freaking ice cream truck.
And a Hostess Factory.

75 more minutes until almost lunch time.

I can do this.

I can do this.

I can do this.

Did you know carrots are great Makeup Tools?!

Someone has decided that EVERYTHING is a makeup brush...or lip gloss....or something that you rub on your lips or face.

Yes. Everything.

Oh, there's bottle of sunscreen on the floor???? Lets use it like it's a blush brush and rub it all over our face.

Oh, there's a small bottle of (sealed) Essential Oil sitting on the counter, Lets use that as lip gloss and rub it all over our lips. And Mama's lips. And the dog's lips.

Seriously! It's Everything! Dillyn will pick up the most random thing and start rubbing it all over her face! lol. It's hilarious, but super strangepants at the same time.

Once, she grabbed a baby carrot and started rubbing it on her cheeks and forehead!

And, just yesterday, we were outside playing (because the Weather Gods pulled their heads out for a quick second and gave us a brilliant weekend full of 70 degree weather. However it is short lived, because it's supposed to get down to 40 on Thursday. But no fear! It goes back up to 60 this weekend. Jesus, Mary, and El Nino, can they just make up their freaking minds already?!?! It's like the Weather Gods took an IV of Red Bull, then popped a few Speed pills, as they hang out in their purple straightjackets because they're Schizos). Moving on. We were playing outside and little Miss Beauty Queen in the Making was drawing with sidewalk chalk, and I was being the good mother that I am, and sitting in a lawn chair, reading a book, and drinking a beer. All the sudden I look up to see what she's drawing...........and OH.MY.GAWD. She's taken the black....BLACK.....chalk and is drawing all over her lips. Like she's putting lip gloss on.

Ohhhhh child of mine......

I quickly jumped up and said, 'No No!!'
To which, she replied with, 'NO! NO!' (freaking sassypants) And then turned 90 degrees and took off at a full run in the other direction. Laughing & squealing like a hysterical person the whole time. Continuing to rub the black chalk all over her face.

She's 18 months people. And it's already starting.

Is this why most mothers have sippy cups of Mommy's Special Drink with them at all times?!?!

It's nice to know that Dilly's a little girly. But even more nice that her favorite word right now is DEER, and that she has no problems digging her little fingers in the mud and wiping them all over herself. (Because that's what she did when she dropped the black chalk. *shakes head*)

Here's a cute little video of her using the proper tools to put on 'make up'!

I'm a complete and utter (hehe, I said utter) Math-Challenged MORON.

Nothing is more gratifying than when you realize you are a total freaking moron. Especially when you put your moronicness (totally a word) out for all the internets to see.

I'd just like to clarify that I am in fact 33 years old. Years young. What the hell ever. I'm FUCKING THIRTY-THREE. Not 32. Not 34. Not 23, which is what I pretend sometimes when I do stupid shit, that's not related to trying to figure out my age.

I believe however, that this is the most epic of stupid shit that I've done in quite a while.

If you read my post yesterday, then you know I mildly freaked out and thought I was 33 (soon to be *gasp* 34), but somehow missed normal second grade subtraction and thought I was 32. Like, seriously spend 48 hours thinking I was 32. Told my trainer I was 32. POSTED ON THE BLOGGY I WAS 32. Told ALL the people I was 32.

When clearly, it's not only gloriously posted right under my picture to the right here----------
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                                                                                                                                                                  |
                                                                                                                                                                  |
                                                                                                                                                                  |
                                                                                                                                                                  |
                                                                                                                                                                  |
                                                                                                                                                                  |----->
BUT anyone that has a grade school education can figure out that I'm actually 33. Not 32.

I think my math teacher of a mother (who taught me all though high school) is extremely proud of me right now.

Actually, Mother, I blame you. Yup. That's what's going to happen here. I not only inherited your side of the family's classy ditziness, but you neglected to teach your OWN daughter basic math skills. Yes, this is all your fault. (Again, I might be acting like I'm 15 at the moment, but let's not dwell on that, mmmkay?!)

And since I'm going to redirect my ignorance here, and continue on the Mom-Blame-Game, I'd like to share with you all EXACTLY where I come from.
This was Mother's comment on a post I put on FB the other day:

SEE PEOPLE?!?! SEE!!!!

All Heifer Free.

I'd like to be all heifer free as well Mother. But I'm referring to my heifer sized ass.



In other news: Day 2 of my Sugar Overload Diet commenced with my employee bringing in fresh, straight from the oven, still radiating warmth, Krispy Kreme Donuts this morning.
I've had 2.
I'm thinking about having another.
FML

Kinda, but kinda not Ten Things Thursday.

I've eaten nothing but chocolates today. Russell Stover chocolates. Some Vallallahalla or something chocolates from Minnesota. More Russell Stover chocolates. Ugh. I suck at life.

Anywhoozle.

You may (or may not) have noticed that I changed up my page a little. I decided that I wanted to add a little somepin-somepin to my title. I may just end up changing it even more. So it's like Beer, Dogs, Beauty, Baby, Chocoholic, Randomness, Obsessions, I Miss Summer, and Getting Healthier. Catchy???? Ya, I thought so too.

Well, since venturing into the wonderful world of beauty products in October, I've kind of gone ape-shit for makeup. I know. I'm shocked myself. Coming from a girl that thought 'dressing up' was to include tinted chapstick into my minimally done makeup routine (and by minimally, I mean eye liner. Maaayyyyyybe some mascara, if I was feeling overzealous. Which never happens.) So, for me to now think about eye shadow AND foundation AND mascara AND *gasp* blush......shit's hit the fan peeps. But what's cool.....I freaking LOVE it! Maybe it's the artist in me, and thinking of my face as a canvas, or some shit like that. Or maybe it's because I'm a late bloomer and only started maturing into my 'teen years' in my thirties. Which, btw, I COMPLETELY thought I was 33 the other day. Seriously and positively thought I was going to be 34 in April. And kinda had a mini-stroke thinking about that. Until my friend graciously pointed out that I'm only 32. But, for realz people, I can't even remember how old I am. AND I'M ONLY 32! Jesus tits Mary Mother of donkey balls.

OH, back to the topic of cosmetics. Yes, I've become slightly obsessed with it. I even started a Pinterest page. (You can find me HERE, if you want to follow me. You should. Because it's cool. Just like me.) Anyways, so I'm going to start posting about new beauty trends on here and other amazeballs stuff. It won't take up all my little bloggy, but since it's something new and exciting for me, I figured I could share with The Cool People (that'd be y'all).

In completely unrelated news. I have a mini-me.

My bro and I. Circa 1985, I would have been 4ish.

Miss Dillyn. Age 17mo.

I would just like to point out the size of that child's head. As my lovely friend Amy from Once Upon A Time In The Land Of Cheese & Sunkist pointed out.......big headed babies are IN. This girl would win any big-head contest. Hands down. 99.8 Percentile people. LARGE AND IN CHARGE. I mean, look at her little toothpick arms. I think she's got more cushin' for the pushin' in her damn cheeks than she has on her biceps!!! But don't worry y'all. She got my Ben & Jerry's. Thunder Thighs. Big on the bottom. That's my girl. Takin' after her Mama in more ways than one. So proud.

This was kinda a 10 Thing Thursday. Minus about 7 things. But still! It was random! And it's Thursday!

Cheers to beers y'all!!! I might actually partake tonight. Cause I can. Yup.

Clumps are OUT! Younique 3D Mascara Tips!

I found some great tips from another blogger on using your you Younique 3D Fiber Lashes Mascara! I already use these tips and thought posting them on my blog might help a few of my #BOOMlash Ladies!!! If you've got clumps, it could be because one or all of the following:

1) You’re using regular mascara underneath your 3D Fiber Lashes. Yes, the insert that comes with Younique’s mascara says to use over regular mascara, but as you know, all mascaras are not the same. Try using your 3D Fiber Lashes without regular mascara underneath. You just might like it. Note: I don’t use regular mascara underneath the Younique mascara. It’s my preference and I’ve found that I like my lashes better when I’m only using Younique’s. If you are adamant about using mascara underneath, make sure you are using a “lengthening” mascara and not a “thickening” mascara as this can cause clumps.

2) Using too much gel or fibers. **This is a GREAT tip** Sometimes when you first start using the gel, a lot of it gets on the lash brush. Try scraping a good amount of it off. Use less gel and less fibers, and build “layers” versus trying to achieve the look with one coat. The mascara is buildable so use less, just more coats. For example: gel, fibers, gel. Let sit for 30 seconds then gel, fibers, gel again.

3) Not letting the fibers set long enough. If you don’t let the fibers set long enough and stick to the gel, it can cause the fibers to stick to the wand. Below is my method to applying 3D Fiber Lashes. Switching off between eyes gives the fibers time to set and won’t come off on the gel wand, which can cause clumping. But be carefully not to wait too long, because the gel will dry and then the fibers won't stick. Try applying Younique 3D Fiber Lashes Mascara in this order:

1. Gel eye 1.

2. Gel eye 2.

3. Fibers eye 1.

4. Fibers eye 2.

5. Gel eye 1 to seal it up.

6. Gel eye 2 to seal it up.

7. Repeat to continue building on the length/thickness.

Hope this helps! I'd love to see pictures! Post some on my Facebook page HERE or email me!!

Beauty is.........

I found this quote and became obsessed.
Miss Sophia really knows her shit.

Put your sweats on, this is long. But at the end is something that's the most amazing thing and I'm so proud to show y'all!!!!

I'm sure anyone and everyone that's decided to get on a journey of weight loss or healthification (it's a word) has heard the advice "Well, it starts on the inside. If you don't feel beautiful on the inside you won't feel beautiful on the outside." Yuh feel me peeps? Ya, that's right. You know what I'm talkin' 'bout.

I'd heard it before. I even thought I knew what it meant. But for some reason my brain was so obsessed with fitting into my skinny jeans that I never really paid attention to what I was feeling on the inside. I mean, don't get me wrong, being that I suffer from depression, my inner demonbitches are constantly fighting. It's like sorority-sumo-chocolate-pudding-wrestling inside my soul on a daily basis. So i'm pretty in-tune.....most of the time....with my feelings. I ain't gonna to lie tho, I never, NEVER, thought about working on beautifying/healthifying my soul. Where's the conveyor belt of death for that shit, HUH?!?!

Well, things didn't start clicking for me until recently (need I remind you that I've been on this 'journey' for like 5 years). I've never been one to doll myself up on a regular basis. I mean, I work in a warehouse people. Where I get paint and ink and all sorts of chemicals all over myself. And then I go home, crawl right into my sweats and play with baby girl. What's the point, right? Might as well do the minimum, that way there's less to wash off at night. Or better yet, don't wear anything, that way I don't have to exert the enormous amount of energy to take 2 minutes out of my evening to wash my face before bed.

Then, one day things changed. A friend of mine told me to try this 'magic' mascara. It's supposed to look like you're wearing falsies, but it's just mascara. About as normal as what I would wear every day. So, I'm like, OK, whatevs, give it here. And.OH.MY.GIDDY.AUNT. It was amazing! I put it on and my eyelashes were sooooooooo long. I didn't even realize I had short eyelashes until I saw myself with uber glam lashes! It's funny, I felt instantly prettier, just by that.

So, of course I had to get my own. And actually, I ended up liking a lot of the other products that this company produces, so I thought what the hell, I'll just sign up and get a shitload of stuff, and if I sell some.....Great. If not.....no biggie.

Now, keep with me here, because it's not all about this make-up stuffigans.

Once I got some foundation, and new eye shadow, and lip gloss (that I actually freaking liked), I started getting all fussypants every day. I started waking up 20 minutes early just so I could play with how I wanted my eye shadow to look that day. Was I feeling Fierce???? Mmmm, maybe. Was I feeling Devious???? Hum, could be. I could be whatever I wanted!

All the sudden, I started noticing that it wasn't about what shade I put on my eyes, or what lip gloss I wore that day. It wasn't about the 'outside'. I actually started to feel pretty on the inside. What the whahhhhh????

That meant that I somehow felt 'ugly' on the inside before. Which is totally baffling to me, because, of course, I have my shit together people. All the time. Shit is together.

But if I'm now just feeling pretty on the inside, then that's proof that my shit is definitely not together. Or not as together as I thought.
Interesting dear Watson, Interesting.

I started walking around with a new confidence. I started to pay attention to what I wore. And what jewelry I chose. But even more than that. My whole attitude changed. Not towards other people.....well, maybe a little bit towards other people.....but really, my attitude with myself. Or towards myself. I actually, for the first time in probably my adult life, liked who I saw in the mirror. And not because of the make-up, or cloths, or jewelry. I really, truly liked the real me. The 'inside' me. Dare I saw the beautiful me???? I think so ladies and gents! Dolphin claps for me!

For some weird, twilightish, so-normal-for-me reason, a little mascara made me shine. It made me realize that I am beautiful. On the inside....and outside. No matter what my weight.

OH. Ya. My weight. Right.

Hold on to your shitter seats y'all.

Through this entire magnum revelation, I had been eating like a gopher training to be a super-hippo. Cupcakes??? Why not. Pizza????? Morning, noon, and night??? Bring it on. I gave less than 2 shits about what I was shoving in my face or why I was shoving it in my face. I ate it all people. Ate.It.All.

So here's the real mystery: How, if I was eating at my unhealthiness, weighing the most I have in 6 years, having less energy than a dead beat sloth, did I feel beautiful?????????????

Riddle me that shit Einstein.

For once it wasn't about my weight, or how I vaselined my Ben & Jerry's into my fat jeans every morning.

It was about....................what???? Happiness? Acceptance? Courage? Honesty? Realization?

Really, I think it was about all that. And more! It was about: Who gives an elephant's ass what I look like on the outside? How I 'appear' to other people? How I 'appear' to myself's obsession with society's image? How I have a little (or sometimes a lot) busted can of biscuits over my pants? None of that really matters. In the long run. I mean, we all know that. It's just hard to believe it. Or accept it. But for some reason, for me, it started with a little 'magic' mascara. And it grew. It grew to be a love for the inner me. The 'me' that really matters.

Once I realized this, it was like I was blinded by knowledge. Straight up walking on the face of the sun blinding.

My weight didn't matter.
My happiness with myself mattered.

And just like the magic mascara, I somehow got my shit together....finally....and started treating my body the way I felt on the inside. I wanted the outside to match! Genius!

And here's the results after 4 weeks:

Yup. Proud.
I am so proud.
I'm on track. Finally!
And that was almost a week ago. Just this morning I weighed myself, and I'm at 150.6!!!!!
150.6!!!!!
That's pre-baby weight y'all!!!! Finally. 2 years later.

And besides realizing my beauty within, it had a lot to do with my diet and my training group (SHOUT OUT to Tamra, Kayla, and the Presidente of Pain.....Morgan!).
What's my diet you ask? Oh, you know. I eat air, with a side of celery, dipped in water.
Ya. It's rough.

Seriously, I just quit eating shit. I don't rely on food to get me through an emotional state. I don't gorge myself whenever I feel like it because I want to.
I eat when I'm hungry, and then, I only eat normal healthy food. No take out. No junk. No NUSSING!

Everyone wants to know 'the trick'. I don't think there is one. I think it's truly up to you. Decide what makes YOU feel beautiful...on the INSIDE! Seriously. Once you feel beautiful on the inside, no matter your weight or eating habits, you'll feel beautiful on the outside.

Now go forth and be beautiful!!!!

Soooooo, this happened.....

1. I only gained 2 pounds over the Thanksgiving weekend. Mainly from booze. I'll take it! Damn that delicious eggnog, Damn You!!! And my Mother for buying it!!!

DRINK ALL THE EGGNOG!!!

2. We left Dillybean with the grandparents last Saturday and Saturday night for much needed 'Adult Time'.....aka, going back to my college hometown and pretending I'm 22 and don't get hangovers. BTW, I'm not 22 and I totally still get hangovers. Just to let you know.

Anyways. About 2 hours into my parents watching Dillyn, I get a text.




And not just any text.





This text:

Yes.

Yes, that's right.

My only child.....................practicing her bronc riding stance on a horse.

ON.A.FUCKING.HORSE.

I leave her for 24 hours and this is what happens. *shakes my head*

Not only did she ride the horsey's, she liked the horsey's. Not afraid one bit.

I'm in such deep shit.

Then my Mother had the audacity to say, "Well, I know what I'm getting her for Christmas now!!!!" All cheerful and excited-like. I wanted to smack her upside the skull, and say, "Get your shit together Mother, you're not buying her a pony, for fucks sake."  But in reality, I just gave her the death-glare and said, "Um no. No pony's for Christmas." Of course, my Mother laughed her ass off and said, "Ohhhh, I wouldn't do that!!!"  Uh huh. Sure you wouldn't. If you do end up getting her a damn pony, I want you to know that I'm going to save up all that horse's shit and drop it on your doorstep at least 3 times a year. Just sayin'.



So, ya, Thanksgiving was awesome.

I drank all the calories and learned my daughter isn't even afraid of a 6 foot tall four legged beast that outweighs her by 1265 pounds. Super.Duper.Awesome.