First rule of zombieland: Cardio.

Remember how I said that getting tattooed was a breeze? Well, it was.

The subsequent chafing of the feet, caused by wearing a pair of never before used – and very cute – ballerina shoes, however, is excruciating. I’m not even sure this level of pain (caused by chafed toes) has ever before been registered on the scale of which I’m sure exists.

While going for my walk this morning, I have to admit, I was a bit scared of being mistaken for a zombie with the amount of limping I was doing. I’m not exactly helped by my pale skin (at best I’ve achieved something resembling a beige nuance), and as it has now been 16 weeks since the hiatus of The Walking Dead came upon us, zompoc survivers-to-be are getting restless and perhaps a bit hallucinating – I myself was almost convinced I saw Daryl the other day…

And again, with the amount of limping I was doing, I wouldn’t exactly have been in a position to blame them. Nor am I all that sure that I would’ve been able to to produce anything more eloquent than some pain infused grunting.

And despite whatever Mom says, resting is not an option. Gotta get my cardio up to par.

T-shirt by CenterMassDesigns @ Etsy

 

Keep your skinny jeans on

My favorite scot’s always been Sean Connery (and will, to some extent, always be – I mean, have you seen him in a kilt?), he’s the one true Bond for me, but for the last couple of years, he’s been slightly rivalled by the amazing David Tennant.
Not only is he, Ten-inch Tennant, really good looking, but he’s an incredible actor with such a range – he’s my favored incarnation of the Doctor as well as my favorite part of the Fright Night remake, I love him in Broadchurch and I think he’s absolutely amazing in The Escape Artist.

And there’s this:

Bruce, Wayne and Alfred

Today it finally happened – I got inked!

My older brother has already gotten two in a fairly short amount of time, two larger tattoos on his back, and I’ve been teasing him *cough* fairly mercilessly about how “whiny” he’s been about the pain, especially afterwards. So, he finally got fed up with me and said that if I was willing to get one done, he’d pay for it – just so he could watch me “writhe in pain”.
Probably not his brightest move, as I’ve been outspokenly pro-ink since my tween years and overly competitive since birth. So of course I said yes. And thank you!

The date got set for today, the 17th of July, (which also happens to be my best friend’s birthday), and I haven’t been the least bit nervous, not until this very morning . It wasn’t even about the possible pain per se, it was about it possible hurting so badly that I couldn’t go through with it with a straight face, which would technically mean “victory” for my brother – and I can not even imagine a pain worse than that of my bruised ego.
Fortunately for me – and I never thought I’d use the word ‘fortunately’ when talking about pain – I’ve had lots and lots of prior experiences with pain, so I’ve built up a  more than decent, if I may say so myself, tolerance to it, so once the needle starting “humming”, I calmed down and figured “whatever doesn’t kill me…”.
The thing is, I’ve come to the conclusion that pain, much like most other feelings, is just a question of mindset: it’s the body’s way of telling you that you’re in danger and that you should probably do something about it. So, if I tell myself that this is in fact not a situation in which I’m in danger, but rather something I want done, that should make the pain more bearable.

I obviously can’t say for sure that that’s what made this so easy for me to endure, or if it’s just that I have a higher tolerance for pain, but getting my three bat silhouettes (which I’ve named, from largest to smallest, Bruce, Wayne and Alfred) was a breeze.
Actually, the pain caused by the shoes I chose to wear today (the protect my precious ink), is about ten times worse than the inking itself.

Speaking of my best friend and it being her birthday: she’s already got two tattoos, a rose on her wrist and a celtic cross on the left side of her lower abdomen, and she’s got her third almost completely figured out, and she’s definitely got the “ink fever” so when I told her that I was getting my first tattoo, on her birthday no less, she asked if she could come along (of course she could!). When we got there, she starting talking about possibly getting one done, too, today, and asked me if I could ask Bobby, the guy doing my tattoo, if he might have the time to do a quick one on her and I did – and he did.
So two hours later we both left with new ink. She got her beautiful Amstaff’s name and paw prints tattooed just below her collar bone and I got Bruce, Wayne and Alfred.

 

unnamed

 

My brother is actually getting his third tattoo, a full sleeve, later this month, and even though it’ll be at least a 7-hour sit, I’ve decided to keep him company. You know, just to tease him if he starts to whine be a good sister and keep him company…

 

“And will you succeed? Yes indeed, yes indeed! Ninety-eight and three-quarters percent guaranteed!” – Dr. Seuss

What’s that word…? You know, when you’re sore all over and your arms and legs feel like spaghetti? Oh, yeah - SATISFACTION!

I survived my first day at the gym and I’m already ready to go again! Well… The spirit’s willing!
When we (Mom and I) first got there, I admit that I felt a bit lost and a little intimidated, but as the saying goes: headphones on, world off (well, it might not be an established saying yet…), and I did just fine. And so did Mom – I’m proud of you! <3 And I’m proud of myself, too!

I’m even looking forward to barely being able to get out of bed tomorrow – it’ll feel like a reward – but I will get out of bed, I will go running, I will be better than I was today.

Motivation is what gets you started…

“…Habit it what keeps you going.” - Jim Rohn

Today marks my second week of running since I got the idea to start, which was June 29th – which means that I’ve been going for runs for two weeks without excuses, and I couldn’t be happier about it because that means that I’m able to say that I’m proud of myself!
And I really am.

Just… Wow, actually. Looking back no more than 6 months ago, I would never have imagined, not even in my wildest dreams – and boy have I had some ‘off the chain’ crazy dreams – that I‘d start going for runs. I don’t even think the word was in my vocabulary until very recently. I’ve even begun to see some progress; better stamina, stronger determination… Of course I still have things to work on, my technique, for one, could do with some improvement, but… baby steps.

Tomorrow actually marks another first for me as I’ve joined a gym! I say a “first”, which isn’t technically true, I did go to a gym a few years back, but it was very sporadic and I became a master at making up excuses not to go. This time around, I’m ready and willing to go the extra mile because I’m doing it for me.
And for Mom – since she’s going to be my gym buddy. And since I know she reads my blog: No making up any excuses not to go tomorrow <3

 

Gif via believe-toachieve.tumblr.com/

First Moon Party

(Embarrassing?) Confession #43: I’m one of those people. You all have one of them in your life. The person who ruins movie night.
Yeah, ok, I was being a bit dramatic (it’s what I do).

But honestly, I’m not exactly what you’d call the most enjoyable company when watching tv, movies or going to the cinema…. I talk. Or, well, whisper, at least in the theater. I throw in random bits and facts about actors, plots and my own opinions and comparisons between the book and the movie (it’s never in the movie’s favor).
And I zap. This, for some odd reason, really irritates my older brother. I don’t really know why, I mean how enjoyable is it to watch the endless stream of commericals? The never-ending, in your face attemtps to get you to buy stuff. I’d much rather catch 5 minutes of a semi-bad movie, or the 467th rerun of a show I’ve watched since I was a kid.

No, I really hate commercials. Most of them, anyway… I just found this really funny commerical for HelloFlo.com – a site that offers niched care packages for that time of the month. I know what you’re (probably) thinking: “A commerical for female hygiene products? No, thank you.” – but really, it’s so much more fun than it sounds, and not even a bit embarrassing!
Well, not for the viewers, anyway.

I’m not saying I’m a bad cook…

but my neighbors got a restraining order against me. I’m not allowed within 50 yards (or 10 meters if you’re a metric system kinda person) of the kitchen.  I have a P.O. who comes on regular surprise visits to make sure I don’t have any cooking related paraphernalia on my person, as that is a clear violation against my three year probation.
Special circumstances, the judge called it. Said I should count myself lucky to get away with only a  restraining order and probation. I’m inclined to agree, the penalty could’ve been much worse considering that one of my neighbors had a minor misadventure (apparently not supposed to call it ‘meltdown’ anymore) at the office when a co-worker accidentally burnt something in the microwave and set off the smoke alarm.
An unusual form of PTSD, apparently.

I kid, I kid. But only a little. Truth be told, the only reason I haven’t set off any smoke alarms recently is because I took out the batteries…
I tried making pancakes the other day. Out of a recipe for 16 pancakes, only 1½ came out somewhat edible. And by ‘somewhat’ I mean that the taste was similar to that of actual pancakes and I did manage to get a few hours of sleep once the worst of the stomach ache went away.
That is, sadly, not an exaggeration.

The above picture is a still of the reconstruction of what my kitchen looked like after the Notorious Muffin Incident a few weeks back. The creative director wanted something a little more “dramatic” than the actual modern kitchen scene, so he had us go with a 50′s theme.

Photo from google image search of my name kitchen disasters.

Those would have been terrible last words.

A while back, I started watching Doctor Who. Per the recommendation of a friend (who knew I have a thing for David Tennant – everything the man touches turns to gold!), I started with the 10th Doctor. My friend is not a big fan of neither Christopher Eccleston nor Billie Piper and as I had no prior experience of Eccleston and only knew Billie Piper from her music career, and I only actually remember Because We Want To (so catchy!). I figured sure, Tennant can do no wrong so why not start with him – and if I love it, I can always go back. In time. *cue CSI Miami theme*
Yeah, no, that was actually really bad. Even for my standards…

AaaaanyWho (again, a lame sort-of-pun was intended)! I only got like two or three episodes in before Sons of Anarchy caught my attention. Having a thing for bad boys with tattoos, speed and a slight touch of the criminal element, I, um… There’s really no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it: Mom, I’m sorry, but there is a chance that I’ll bring home a tatted up biker one day and I think the important thing to remember is that all that matters is that he has a good heart… Phew. Weight of my shoulders.

Right, had a point, going back to it. I just recently started getting reacquainted with The Doctor, but this time I figured I wouldn’t “cheat”, so I started with the 9th Doctor. And I love him. And I love Rose Tyler. Why do people call her annoying? She’s so cute! And sassy! Which is perfect because so is he! (And how amazing is Jackie!?)
And one of the best things about it, is, probably, that it can actually give me a bit of scare. A small one, granted, being hardened by years and years of watching almost nothing but horror movies. Still, there is an off chance that I might have some odd nightmares about creepy children wearing gas masks and 1940′s clothing calling out for “Mommy”.
(Kids, they can be so CREEPY!)

And as always, witty dialogue is the key to my heart! Like when Rose says (apropos her introducing him as “Mister Spock”): “What was I supposed to say? You don’t have a name! Don’t you ever get tired of “Doctor”? Doctor Who?” and he replies: “Nine centuries in, I’m coping.”
Love. It. Love him. Love her. Love it!

And so, with this declaration of love, I will return to the 9th reincarnation of the Doctor and Rose and leave you with Because We Want To - because I want to.

 

Familiar

I just found my animal kindred spirit! I don’t know anything about this cat other than that he (or she) looks like a mix between a vampire and a cat and I love it. If this was my cat, I’d name him Vlad and take him tricking every Halloween (’cause let’s be honest, with a catpire like this you can’t really go treating – and I don’t mind!)

 

 

Image via Reuters.

There aren’t many things that are universally cool, and it’s cool not to litter – Matthew McConaughey

To whom it may concern – that is, to all the “we’ll all be dead and gone in a 100 years”, to all the “I’m not the only one doing it” and all the “I’m not having any children, so, in a way, I’m already doing my part to save the earth” – and who haven’t watched, or understood, in order of relevance: The Terminator, Minority Report, Robocop and The Running Man (alt. Gamer):

In a near future, our robot overlords will have the ability to predict crimes before they take place, alternatively, they’ll be able to scan thrown-away candy wrappers, carelessly left behind disposable barbecues and abandoned & empty beer cans (“‘cuz the nearest garbage can was at least a few feet away”), and be able to retrieve any and all information about the culprit like *that*.

As for The Running Man-reference, it really shouldn’t need an explanation. Three times and you’re out fighting not only for your freedom, but for your survival.

The reason I’m writing about this today, is because I was out for an early jog this morning and where I run, I have this amazing ocean view which always makes me feel like I’m millions of miles away from the rest of the world. Normally, there’s nothing that even could ruin the peace I feel while out there, but today I saw so much garbage everywhere: plastic cups, disposable barbeques, empty food packages, candy wrappers – you name it, I probably saw it. And I just don’t get it. During the summer, the city makes sure that there are at least twice the number, probably more, of garbage bins around than usual. I don’t think it’s possible to be further than a few feet away from one at any given location. So why do people still throw away their crumpled up beer cans and leave their emptied cigarette packs wherever they are seated?

Photo borrowed from Trash Trip.