I don’t know about you, but the last few years as my thirties have been looming over me, I’ve had to face a few harsh realizations. I’ll never learn to do my “nine” times tables without using my fingers, my left knee will always forecast the weather better than Al Roker, and unfortunately; I’ll either have to work out until I’m 65 and don’t care anymore- or I’ll end up working in Vegas as a Rosie O’Donnell impersonator.

I’m weird about working out. I do it in spurts. For months at a time I’ll get on a kick where I’ll be getting physical more than Olivia Newton John- and then I’ll get burnt out and my hard core workouts will slowly trickle into slow walks around the block. Or mosies, as I like to call them.

For years, I hated going to gym more than I hated doing algebra. You couldn’t pay me to enter a building where people wore tight clothing and made faces like they were having sex as they lugged huge pieces of metal and ran on a machine with no destination and when no scary person was chasing them with a gun. A gym used to be nothing to me but a sweat sauna. I thought that I would walk in and everyone would stare at me and judge me for my rolls of fat and for not being enthusiastic about doing sit-ups. I hated that there was a place that encouraged people to do sit-ups. A gym, in short- was my version of hell.

Now I see things a bit different.

Don’t get me wrong, I still despise going to the gym. If given the choice, I’d rather sit on the couch and watch a Hannah Montana marathon, but as I said before- I don’t really have that choice at this point in my life. I can still complain about it until my face turns blue- and I could will throw tomatoes at Tony’s stupid face on the TV screen if you make me do P90X, but that doesn’t change the fact that it has to be done. I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy it. I will say that I still enjoy dancing and I love the way yoga makes me feel, but everything else? Is for the birds. If someone says that they truly love spin class, their pants are either on fire or they are freak-flying over the cuckoo’s nest.

I will say this though, as much as I hate going to the gym- I have learned how to thoroughly enjoy myself once I get there. And since I love you all so much, I’ve decided to let you in on my secrets.

1. Be better than someone.

Whether you are a newbs at the gym, or a novice at pumping iron- I can promise you this: there is always someone there that you can beat at something. My gym is full of older people and women who use the gym as social hour…there is always someone I can beat at working out. It may sound a little mean, but let me tell you- you get on a treadmill next to someone who is about the same level of in-shape as you, and keep a close eye on their treadmill to make sure that you are going a tiny bit faster and burning a few more calories- and it’s no longer a workout- it’s a competition. Within a few minutes you’ll want to break out in a full-on run just to prove that you can.

That’s kind of why I like going to aerobics classes. The minute that I want to keel over and die, I simply look around for someone who is half-assing it more than I am, and then turn it up just a tad bit. It doesn’t mean you have to work a whole lot harder. Just enough to feel good about yourself that you can do more sit-ups than an 80 year old man. Win. And it’s always fun to win.

2. Pretend that it is all a performance.

This may sound a little weird, but if you change your frame of mind a little bit- it’s a guaranteed good time. Rather than thinking of my work-out as simply a time to burn calories and firm up my jelly, I prefer to play a character. This will probably be a little easier for those of you with a flare for the dramatic, but if you can get there- I promise it will change your life forever.

As I mentioned before, I have always loved to dance. More than that- I love to be on stage and role-play. I do it in all other facets of my life, so why not at the gym? If I’m in spin class, I pretend that I’m actually a biker on get-away race. If I’m swimming laps, in my brain I’m actually in the movie Jaws, trying my damndest to out-swim old sharp tooth. When I’m in aerobics class, I am performing in an aerobics video. When it looks to you that I’m lifting weights, in my head I’m actually starring in a sports movie-montage. The music you choose to listen to plays a key role in the tone and mood of your performance. It’s your soundtrack, so choose wisely. Bob Dylan is grand- but he doesn’t make well for a well- played character, unless you want to go all Clint Eastwood in the gym. Not only does role-playing take your mind away from what your actually doing, but it also helps you to achieve a damn good work-out. You don’t think Natalie Portman lost 20 pounds by just sitting on her ass, do you?

3. Make it all a performance.

Sometimes, playing a role in your head just isn’t enough. In fact, once your in character- often times, you can’t help but letting it out a little bit- and it feels good. It might be a little daunting at first, but a lot of people do it. Just look around. Those dudes don’t HAVE to make the grunting sound when they’re lifting dumb-bells. No. They are letting they’re inner Sylvester Stallone show through- and you should too.

It doesn’t have to be overly obvious; you can just take it as far as you feel comfortable. For instance, when your walking on the treadmill and listening to a Hilary Duff song on your ipod that you don’t know the words to, mouth them anyway. Nod your head. Don’t be afraid to dance a little. This is the only time in your life when people won’t know that you don’t actually know the words that you’re faking. Even sing a word out loud now and then. People around you will feel jealous that you are having so much fun, which once again- makes your workout a win.

If you happen to be in a Palates class, don’t be afraid to stare at yourself seductively in the mirror. If you’re in weight aerobics, add in the hip shakes and shoulder bounces when you feel so inclined. Focus on yourself in the mirror, and just know that everyone else in there is focusing on themselves as well. If you’re running on a track, stop and do a silly dance. If you’re lifting weights and Bohemian Rhapsody comes on your ipod, stop and use the weight as a microphone for a moment. Stop caring what anyone else thinks. Working out doesn’t benefit anyone but you, so you should only worry about yourself while doing it.

4. Point and Laugh.

This is going to sound completely hypocritical after all that I’ve said before about feeling self conscious at the gym and how everyone focuses on their selves while working out; but your just going to have to accept the fact that I am, actually a bit of a hypocrite. But I would be even more so if I said that I didn’t enjoy making fun of people in my head a little bit. And believe me, if you follow my advice about roll-playing and making your work-out a performance, I can promise you that people will be making fun of you in their heads too, so just think of it as pay-back. And payback is always a bitch.

Besides, other than Six Flags, there is no better place in the world to people watch than the gym. There are all kinds of interesting people who have to work out just like we do. People wear weird things to the gym. They make weird faces. They talk to their friends about interesting personal matters. They do weird things with their mouths when they think no one is watching. They wear gray pants so it looks like they have peed when they get crotch sweat. So watch…. and laugh quietly to yourself as you do your own weird things. It makes time go by so fast, and it will get your mind off of thinking you are going to pass out.

5. Mix it up a bit.

Everyone always says to mix up your workouts so that you won’t get bored. That is not what I mean at all. Although I do have to say that that works too.

What I’m talking about though, is something entirely different. As much as you might mix your actual workout up, it’s still a workout. So to make things interesting and entertaining- you have to really think outside the box and change the other factors that play into your workout.

Try listening to something out of the ordinary on your ipod. I use my exercise time as music exploration time. Yesterday, I listened to nothing but jazz. Last week, I listened to history podcasts. When I do choose to listen to my same old mix, I have to keep myself on my toes somehow, so I decided a while back to put Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You up” in my work out mix several times, only I went into my itunes and changed the title and artist as another band that I put on my mix so that I will effectively rickroll myself at least once a workout. It never fails to make me laugh.

I also decided that since the girls who wear sports bras and other ridiculous work out attire, are so entertaining to me- that I would join them in making my outfit enjoyable to others. I try to always wear ridiculous t-shirts to the gym. I even cut the arm-pits out of an old NSYNC shirt, because it makes me laugh.

If your really brave, try wearing an early 90′s thong leotard paired with lycra leggings and an exercise belt. Then you’ll really be able to role-play flash dance! Perhaps the next time your in aerobics and your teacher decides to put on techno-music, you should get up and flick the lights on and off to make it like a gay-bar. Why the hell not? Your paying for it. What are they going to do, kick you out?

Well maybe…. But regardless, working out sucks balls- but I hope that I could be of at least a little assistance in making it more fun for you.

The truth is, things haven’t been all gloom and doom around here. It’s not like I’m sitting around in last week’s underwear listening to the Smiths on repeat while downing hot chocolate after hot chocolate. Not at all. Nope. I did laundry last weekend, am currently listening to the new Girl Talk album, and I  haven’t had a sip of hot chocolate in over 3 hours Yay me!

In other news I’m been geeking out in a major way the last few weeks. I haven’t spent a lot of time on the internets, but I have been spending a lot of time indulging in other things that make me oh so happy.

For instance, this weekend I was lucky enough to have some great girls join me on a wonderful musical adventure. I wasn’t sure it would be possible to have a night compare to the last time I went to see Joshua Radin, but -despite not making out with his drummer this time around (he had a new one who made weird sex faces when he played) it was pretty much the best night I’d had in a while.

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Per usual, Mr. Radin’s angel voice nearly made me faint.  I know I  wasn’t the only one by the way the crowd simultaneously sighed everytime he belted out a note. His new album is a little more rock-ish than I’m used to, but I actually dig it A LOT.

The real surprise of the night was his opener, Kelley James. I probably wouldn’t have been a huge fan of his music had I not seen him live but on top of having a knack for writing clever pop-culture related songs, the dude can really pump out some quality free-style- which is pretty much my favorite thing in the world. Seriously. I believe he shares a manager with Lil Jon, which basically makes us rapper cousins.

Well not really, but I did once challenge Lil Jon to a rap off at a nice Dallas eatery. After a few cocktails, I just couldn’t help myself. It didn’t actually happen… I’m pretty sure he thought I was joking, but I’m pretty sure I could have at least battled it out for 20 or 30 seconds before he Oh Yeahhhhed me outta tha’ place.

Here is Kelley James. I think we can all relate to this song a little. In fact, while he was doing the intro, my friends and I (all avid twitter and googlers) were ironically in the audience google stalking and tweeting at him like there was no tomorrow. Enjoy.

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In other non-related news, something huge has happened with my mouth.

You may recall the long time love affair that I’ve always had with ketchup? Well I’ve decided to have a serendipitous affair. With ketchup’s father.

Yeah I know, it seems a little bit gross. I always thought tomatoes were nasticular myself. I’ve spent hours upon hours of my life picking every single ketchup morsel out of pre-made salads. I’ve tossed many a tomato out the window after Wendy’s soggied up spicy chicken sandwich by ignoring my “hold the tomatoes” request. I’ve even grossed quite a few people out by spitting bites of chewed up tomato bits into my napkin.

Not only that, but I’ve always had a bit of an issue with the word “tomato.” I can never remember how it’s spelled. I always want to put an “e” on the end, making it “tomatoe.” Is that how the British people do it? Is that correct in some language? I don’t know. I do know that I also have gotten annoyed the way people say “tomato, tomahto,” and even more when people from my home state of Texas say tomater. Which is weird because I’m perfectly fine when people say potater. I don’t know, but I think it’s just because I always hated the food so much.

But now I say, “What the heck was I thinking?” Tomatoes are delicious, delicious I tell you! How did I go so long without them on my sandwiches, in my salads, plain with some pepper on top!???

I’m sorry ketchup, but you may not be as tasty as your father. I’m still up for a threesome though if you’d like.

Yummy tomato, get in my mouth!

As you may remember, I started a new job a couple of weeks ago, and I’ve abso-loving it so far. The people are great, I love how close it is to home, and my days FLY by! Seriously, before it felt like I was living in the land of 18 hour work days, and now I barely even have time to reach for a kleenex when I sneeze. I said barely people, gross as I may sometimes be- I do reach for a kleenex most of the time when I sneeze, especially when I’m in public. I even keep a bottle of hand sanitizer near-by for those close-nose-calls.

Although, speaking of sneezes, there was this one sneeze in my life that I am particularly proud of. We were at a house party so I made LA accompany me to the bathroom so we could have old-fashioned gal-potty time and discuss the actions of all the Douchengoyles at the party. (Julie mentioned it today, but just in case you missed it- “Douchengoyle” is basically the best word ever! It’s a combo of 2 of our favorite terms for ass-hat boys, “douchecanoe” and “gargoyle”.)

Anydouche, whenever I drink I usually have to sneeze a million times. Actually, I have to sneeze about 5 times after anytime I consume mostly ANYTHING. I have no idea why that is, but it’s quite annoying. I’m starting to think I have a wheat allergy, because it mostly happens when I drink beer or eat anything bready.

So I was sitting on the toilet (#1) when a giant sneeze started to arise from the deepest dark embarrassing parts of my body. I sneeze often, but I rarely have the types of sneezed that literally take over all of my abilities to do or think about anything else. This time though, the sneeze was all encompassing. I’m not sure if I had finished peeing at the point of combustion, but if I hadn’t it definitely shook my blatter clean. I’m fairly sure I didn’t even have to wipe for the next week. One hand was incapacitated with my drink, and the other with toilet paper, so I had no way to cover my mouth, or in this case, my nostrils. After all was said and done, I knew that a fair amount of mucus had made it’s way out of my body, I just couldn’t find where it landed. That is until LA reached for the doorknob to leave the bathroom. Ah yeah… it flew right across the room and landed perfectly square on the doorknob. I probably shouldn’t be so proud, but I kind of am, so judge if you want.

In other news, LA and I finally found some time to unpack a few boxes this afternoon, namely the ones with all of the books in them. It’s weird, for the last few weeks I have felt an emptiness inside of me that couldn’t put my finger on. It wasn’t until tonight when we finally got all of the books up on the shelves that we spent so many hours painting, that I finally realized that I was really missing my books. It’s been over 2 months since I’ve picked up a book to read, which is absolutely crazy for me… It’s not that even I miss reading all that much, although I suppose I do a bit, it’s more that books make me feel good, they make me feel comfortable and at home.

I grew up in a home where books were super important. There wasn’t a room in the house that didn’t have a bookshelf except for the bathrooms… though there were always plenty of books lying around in there as well. Both of my parents are huge readers, and there were weekends when I can remember everyone in my family sitting around in our perspective comfy-spaces with a good book. Even when it was time to eat, or if someone had to go to the bathroom, there was no need to put the book down, we would simply walk around with the book in hand, bumping into walls and each other as we tried to make our way around the house. I probably don’t own a book that isn’t stained with ketchup.

When I was a kid, my mom worked part time at a half-priced bookstore, so I spent much of my summer vacations and weekends there. It was the coolest little place. Each genre had it’s own room. The walls were covered with book and movie posters, and there was a huge section just for comics. I also spent a lot of time hanging out at the headshop next door, but that’s a whole nuther post.

So yeah… books make me feel good. Just having them around me. Plus there is something about owning a collection of anything, and books and movies are my two favorite things to collect. Whenever I get upset or anxious, I will spend hours reorganizing my books and DVDs.

But there is something else about books that I have missed, and since I’ve already gone to a TMI place tonight, I figure I’ll continue on with that.

JOHN CUSACK, If you’re reading… please stop now!

You see, I never really have problems with going… number 2. I keep quite a regular schedule, especially since I’ve changed my eating habits. But lately I feel that things have been a bit off… Then I remembered about the secret magical power that books have for me. I mean… All I have to do is look at a book and I feel like all my assues are solved. I literally cannot walk into a Barnes and Nobles without having to go-go. I have never been able to figure out if it’s the fact that I associate reading with going, or if it’s the smell of coffee… but it is the most natural laxative EVER!

Anyone else have this problem amazing miracle cure with books and bookstores?

And since we’re not on the subject, but ever so slightly related… I read about this really great product today. Whether you have a man or a dog, I think it could really be helpful…

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2-The number of times that I’ve washed my sheets since I moved in, or any of my clothes for that matter.  (We don’t have a washer or dryer)

2-The number of times I thought my roommate LA used her secret powers to dissapear since I’ve moved in. (We have really weird accoustics in this house so I can never tell where her voice is coming from. It’s really scary when you think you have known someone for 9 years and you’re just now discovering she has the ability to dissapear.)

9-The number of times that our ghost has scared the living daylights out of me since I’ve moved in.

148-The number of pimples that I have on my face due to stress and poor diet.

2-The number of bottles of face wash that I’ve owned in my lifetime.

8- The number of boxes I have yet to unpack. Most of them have books in them, and it’s only when they are all packed up and available that I actually want to read them.

45- The number of times that I’ve cheated on my diet since moving in.

45- The number of times that I’ve said “Tomorrow I’m starting my diet again, for real.” psssha

123,433,123- The approximate number of Jelly Bellies that I’ve consumed in the last 2 months.

3- The number of times that I thought that our new coffee maker was broken and was spilling water. Turns out that I was just ambien-preparing the coffee late at night, then woke up and made it again in the morning not realizing I had already prepared it the night before. For those of you who are unaware, when you put double the water in the coffee tank, the water spills out a little hole in the back, causing crazy people to believe that the coffee maker is broken.

9- The number of days since I’ve been on Match.com.

3-The number of times that I’ve signed on to Match. That shit takes up a lot of time, that frankly I don’t want to spend answering emails from strangers. I have gone out with one guy a few times which has been really fun… I just don’t understand how people have the mental energy and time to put into dating multiple people…

48-The number of times that I’ve gotten out of my current shower and had morbid thoughts that I was probably going to slip and crack my head open because I don’t have a bath mat.

135- The number of times in my life that I’ve wondered if Paul Rudd is actually a vampire. (That guy never ages, seriously)

4-The number of times in the last month that I’ve had weird dreams that somehow involved the Mac guy from the “I’m a Mac” commercials. I have no explanation for this one.

50- (At Least) The number of wine bottles that have been consumed since moving into this house.

3-The number of weeks since I have last gotten paid. I’m going on no monies at this point.

4- The number of times I’ve said that giving out massages with happy-endings might not actually be that bad of a moonlighting gig.

3- The number of big gigantic ketchup bottles that I have finished in 2 months.

2- The number of boys that I was not actually dating that have broken up with me in the last week. One was documented here, which I still feel a little guilty posting about since I’m a really really nice person. The other happened shortly after. It was actually the first comment posted on that particular post…

I have copied and pasted it below for you lazy bones who don’t want to go and see it for yourself:

___________

Jake 1 week ago

_______

For those of you who don’t remember, Jake is my gay best friend/ex-roomie. He’s the one who used to blow dry my hair and make the “whheeee whheeee” sound when I wanted to overeat. He used to break in my high heels and would  cook me dinner every night. I miss him. We weren’t so much peas and carrots, but we were definitely something like ketchup and baked potatoes.

I miss the way he used to sing “la la la la, la la la la la, la la la la la la la la .. ooooooooeeeeeeooooooooooooo,ooooooo ahhhhhhahhhhhhahhhhh (Lovin You, as performed in National Lampoons Vegas Vacation) No one, I mean nobody can hit that high note like he can.

On the same subject, if we break up, who will sing “I will Always Love You” at my wedding???? That is assuming someone will marry me of course.

I admit it has been hard to keep up a long distance (30 miles apart) relationship going, but I’ve had a lot going on… plus this thing goes both ways. I don’t see Jake coming to see me every weekend, or calling me every night. Isn’t the boy supposed to call the girl? Ok, Ok.. maybe the same rules don’t apply in a gaylationship. But still… I’m hurt.

Against All Odds

I thought it was a joke at first, but in the last week I have been getting numerous texts and Facebook posts that have lead me to believe that he is serious about breaking up. It upset me a lot, but it wasn’t until what went down on Facebook last night that I realized I needed to take action.

I have no idea how to do that thing where you screen shot facebook, but this is  how the status updates went down…

Jake ____ would like to officially announce to the world that I’m ignoring Carissa____. It’s been a long time coming…ooooooover “it”…whatever “it” is, or was!

Although this isn’t the first time that Jake and I have argued, it IS the first time that I have realized just how much of a serious problem us breaking up could mean.  Not only am I missing out on good times with my favorite goy on the planet. (Goy is my word for gay boy, duh.) But I am also potentially setting myself up for a scandal. It hit me like a thousand cactus pricks in my ass (no pun intended) that not only does Jake own the domain name for “CarissaJaded,” but he also has the sole ability to keep me from ever becoming president. Let’s be honest, I may not be the most obvious gal for the job, but I’d like to keep my options open.

So my response?

Just when I thought I had hit a massive wall, the internets once again made my world seem a million times better. Thanks so much for all of the encouragment…. as always, you never cease to surprise me. (in a totally awesome find 2 prizes in the bottom of the cereal box sort of way.)

I really try to stay positive, and as much as I know it feels good to vent, most of the time I try to stay away from the serious stuff here on the old blogster. It’s not  because I don’t want to share these things, or because I’m afraid of straying too away from the funny, but I mostly refrain from talking about the personal stuff because it forces me to deal with it… and I spend a great amount of my time avoiding things in my head. I hope one of these days I will get around to really getting some of this stuff off my chest, but for tonight I’m going to continue avoiding it…

Speaking of, I’ve gotten back into listening to podcasts, and I feel like I’m learning so much. My roomie LA just got me into this podcast called “Stuff you Should Know,” and boy I’m realizing there is so much stuff I didn’t know. Like did you know that there are real life zombies? Or that there are people who literally dedicate their lives in these modern times to figuring out who Jack the Ripper was?  Or that the guy who originally started McDonald’s actually has the last name Kroc? Or that the Amish allow their young people time to run free and live with the regular people and that most of them return home? I actually already knew that last one, but only because of that Harrison Ford movie “Witness.” It’s a really great movie, but I really wish the Harrison Ford character had been played by Jeff Bridges.

In fact, I think you could really take any of those middle of the road old-ish guy actor movies and replace the lead with Jeff Bridges, and you would have an exponentially better movie.

Take “Pretty Woman” for example. Now put Jeff Bridges in Richard Gere’s role. Not the Starman Jeff Bridges, but “the Dude” Jeff Bridges. I bet he would have had a lot more fun with prosty Julia Roberts. Or what about Twister, one of my favorite movies ever? Can you imagine if Bill Paxton was played by hippie Jeff Bridges? As the tornado swept in and took out that outdoor movie theater, he would have been all- ” Fuck no tornado, that theater really tied the whole fuckin town together. Fucccckkkk man.”  Or I dunno. Maybe my old-ish man crush on Jeff Bridges is really getting out of hand. I can’t stop listening to the “Crazy Heart” soundtrack, and I’ve watched “The Fisher King” like 4 times this month.

Don’t worry John Cusack, you’re still my number one. I’ve watched Serendipity pretty much every night for the last two weeks as I was falling asleep. I don’t care what anyone says, cheesy as it is… “Serendipity” makes my heart beat. AND it also influenced me to read my favorite book of all time “Love in the Time Of Cholera.”

Wow, I’m clearly random tonight. I guess that’s what skipping out on blogging for nearly two weeks will do to a girl. I have this whole notebook of things that I’ve been jotting down that I want to talk about, and I’m going to try my damndest to spread it out over time and actually put up some decent posts, but so far, not so good.

In other randomness, I tried something this weekend that may have changed my life. (And no I’m not talking about cutting off a fish head, though that DID HAPPEN!) More about that later.

THE EYES KEPT BLINKING EVEN WHIST DECAPITATED!!!

You see, I grew up being completely obsessed with chocolate milk. Not the kind that already comes mixed up for you, but chocolate milk of the Nestle Quick powder variety. Even as a toddler it was my favorite. Before I could even say “Mommy,” I could say “chocolate milk.” Not really, but I did say “dark Nah” which was my word for chocolate milk.I can’t explain to you the level of my love for chocolate milk, but I can tell you it used to be right up there with ketchup. In fact, I even drink it differently than I drink other drinks. It’s like I drink it from the back of my throat instead of out of the front of my mouth. Never mind, that all sounds kind of gross.

Regardless, Chocolate milk is a very important part of my “World O’ Happy,” other wise known as the things that are my most favorite in the whole wide world.

At least 2 times a day until I was 14 I would pull up a chair to the kitchen counter, get my favorite light blue plastic cup from the top shelf, and pour 4 heaping spoonfuls of chocolately goodness into my milk. It would never fail that at least one of these spoonfuls would end up on the counter, stuck in the cracks for my parents to wipe up later. At some point in my early teens when it became clear to them that I would never become a clean scooper, Nestle quick was banned from my house forever. One day, I went into the kitchen to stir up my favorite poison, only to find that my powder quick had been replaced by the syrup.

Nomaam.com. Syrup chocolate milk just isn’t near as yummy. It doesn’t provide you with a mustache that has a real-life grainy texture. You don’t get the same lumps at the bottom of the glass that you can lick out with your tongue.

I bought the powder Nestle Quick for the first time in my adult life not too long ago, and was really disappointed to find that it just wasn’t the same. The magic was gone. It could be partially because I can no longer drink real milk, so had to mix my quick with a soy substitute, which is great with cereal, but it just doesn’t seem to mix well with powder. It really sucks donkey ass.

So this weekend, as LA and I were loading up on liquids to cure our hangovers as we headed out for a long day of fishing at my family farm, LA got really excited when she came across a bottle of YooHoo.

She’s all like, “OH MY GOSH, I haven’t had Yoohoo in like a million years, this stuff is like crack.” I’m like, “EWWWW, that’s like fake chocolate milk without milk in it.”

“YOU”VE NEVER HAD IT, HAVE YOU!?!?”

“Nope… Why would someone drink fake chocolate milk? It’s like that Dave Chapelle skit where that kid wants “sugar water purple” instead of Sunny D.

So she finally talked me into trying it. I woman-ed up and tried Sugar-water brown… and it was delicious!!!! I’ve spent the better part of this evening googling recipes to find out how to make my own version, since I’m poor and also because I like to make my own versions of these things. Turns out there is a reason I like it so much, and it DOES have milk in it.. kind of.

All the recipes I could find look like this:

• 1/2 cup instant chocolate drink mix (Nestle Quik is best)
• 1 1/2 cups nonfat dry milk powder
• 3 cups water

Ahhh the magic of chocolate milk is back.

And so am I. Mostly.

I’ll be getting back to the dares and my regular posts very soon. I’m still getting used to my new job which is a thousand times more busy than my last job, but in a great way. My8 hour day feels like 3 hours. It’s going to take a little getting used to.

Shine and Marie have had a wonderful idea. They have called for women such as me, to write, today, about an issue that affects women. This was all inspired by the fact that the Criminal Homicide and Abortion Amendments bill was passed a few weeks ago in Utah, which I could write a whole post about, but I’ll spare you.

This is something that I’ve addressed briefly in the past, but feel needs to be addressed again is fact that there are still so many women dealing with body image issues and eating disorders.

A while back I wrote a post about my personal struggle with weight-loss. Although I didn’t go into the details about my eating disorder, I was floored at the number of responses via comments and emails from people who have gone through similar situations. I didn’t realize that there were so many women, (and men) who have struggled with eating disorders. I’ve rarely spoken about my eating disorder to the people in my life-much less the people on the internet, but my brief mention of it on this blog took a huge weight off my chest. It made me realize that if I had spoken up about it years ago or had been more educated on the subject- my own situation wouldn’t have gotten so out of hand.

Personally, this is something that I’ve battled since I was about 8. I don’t blame anyone in my life and I don’t blame magazine covers or actresses. I’m not sure how or why it happened to me, but even at such a young age I was constantly thinking about the way my body looked and what I ate.

I started dancing at an early age, and I was always comparing my body to others. I know that it wasn’t intentional, but I did have a little pressure to be thin put on me by members of my family. I remember being offered a new bathing suit if I would lose 10 lbs and being coughed at at the dinner table if I reached for an extra roll. I also looked up to a cousin who was heavily involved in pageants. Everyone was always gushing at her beauty, and I thought that being thin had everything to do with it. I wanted to be able to borrow her cute clothes and for people to view me as “beautiful” too. I wanted to be a size 2 like my friends, and not a size 7.

It didn’t help that I developed fairly early. Most of the girls that I danced with were rail thin and had no chest. I was curvy and chesty- and I didn’t have a grasp on the concept that everyone was different. I always thought I was doing something wrong… whether it was eating too much or not exercising enough. People were always talking about dieting, but no one ever told me that I was normal. Back then, I didn’t have an understanding of a “healthy” lifestyle… the way I saw it -you were either dieting or you were fat.

By the time I was in Jr. High, it was already an obsession. At the age of 12, I was waking up before class to exercise on top of my dance rehearsals. I would spend my lunches meticulously picking off the grains of salt from pretzels, and eating about 8 before I decided I was “full”… and I felt proud that I had eaten so little.

When I started throwing up, I knew very little about bulimia or the various health effects it could cause. I’m sure we touched base on it in health class, but at the time, nothing mattered except for being thin. I was praised for my weight loss- and that was all the encouragement I needed to continue throwing up.   It went on for nearly 5 years before anyone found out about it. It probably would have gone on forever if I hadn’t been caught.

When my parent’s found out about my eating disorder, I know that they felt guilty for not recognizing that I had a problem and for praising my weight-loss, but it wasn’t their fault. If they had known about it earlier, they would have done anything they could to prevent it. If they had known that there was a possibility that I had a problem, they would have done their best to educate themselves on the disorder, and had a conversation with me about it- just as they did when they found out. But the truth is, there is no way that they could have known.

It was only through the support of my friends and family that I was able to finally seek help and put a stop to that particular problem. It’s been a long journey, but in the years to follow I gained over 100 lbs, and then more recently, lost over a hundred lbs by learning to eat right and exercise. Though I still have body image issues, I have finally gotten to the point where I have stopped obsessing about my weight.

I finally realize that there is no perfect, but I am perfectly content with that. I just wish that I had realized it earlier.

The shocking statistics: Approximately 8 million people in the United States are affected by eating disorders, 7 million of those are women.  4 out of every 100 women suffer from bulimia. 33% of these eating disorders present themselves between the ages of 11 and 14.

Eating disorders are rarely talked about because like myself, most people are embarrassed or don’t realize the extent of their problem.This has to change.

There may not be an easy solution for this, but the fact is- it should be talked about more. I can’t say for sure that being better educated on eating disorders would have prevented my disorder, but I can guarantee that it wouldn’t have gone on so long had it been discussed. There are always going to be societal pressures to be thin, but we need to do more to educate our youth about what it means to be healthy. Eating disorders need to be more than a paragraph in a health book. Children need to be talked to about the dangers of these disorders and how harmful they can be.

Talk to your children. Talk to your friends. Don’t be afraid to talk about it.

Dearest Ketchup,

Is Ketchup OK? Or do you prefer Catsup? For now we’ll stick with Ketchup…

I’m not trying to come across like a creepy fan here, but I feel like it’s time I came clean with you about a few things.

I heart cuddling.

 I have been a huge, HUGE fan of yours for a  very very VERY long time, and I think it’s time you understood the extent of my love for you.

Just so you know, I’ve only written a few fan letters in my life. One was to Jonathon Taylor Thomas, one was to Keith Coogan (yes this Keith Coogan) (and it may have been like last year on Myspace) (Because I LOVE him and ”the dishes are done, man”) and one was to Seth Green. I was really fucked up watching Robot Chicken when I wrote the Seth Green one, so I’m not even sure it should count. I haven’t EVEN written John Cusack a fan note yet. Oh I’ve sent him a few ambien induced tweets, but still. What I’m trying to say is, Ketchup, is that you are one of the elite.

We could pick out yummy recipes together.

I’ll be honest with you, it started out as an innocent crush. Growing up, I would casually put you on fish sticks and chicken nuggets. Even now, when the idea of fish sticks pretty much makes me want to hurl, I would probably eat them if there was enough of you smothered on them. I would probably eat anything with enough of you smothered on it. Maybe not snails or poop though. I have to draw the line somewhere.

I could teach you how to dance...

I know part of the appeal may come from the fact that my grandparents never really approved. On Thanksgiving, my cousins and I would have to hide you under the dinner table because they thought it was innapropriate to eat you at the table. I still have to do the same whenever I go out to eat steak dinners, apparantly its even rude to ask for you. But I do every time.

NOM NOM NOM

I’m pretty poor, Ketchup, but  no matter how poor I get- I cannot go without you. I always buy the big bottle, though I’ll take you whatever way I can get you. I especially love the Whataburger **fancy ketchup. If it ever came down to it, I might be willing to hold up a Whataburger to get a hold of you.

ODE TO KETCHUP

I put you on chicken, I put you on beans.

I put you on eggs, I put you on greens.

 I put you on potatoes-fried, mashed and baked,

I put you on sandwiches and on  yummy crab cakes.

 I put you on carrots, I put you on rice-

I bet if I put you on cookies it would even taste nice.

Whether it’s Heinz 57,  Hunts or store-brand

I’ll always put you first, ahead of any man.

Or on my man? That might be fun too…

But even if I did, I’d only be thinking of you.

I could probably go on here forever, but there are some things I want to save for the bedroom kitchen.  I kid. Although, you have may heard that on a recent trip to Uncle Julio’s I told my tamale that I would have sex with it if it had ketchup on it, but I want to take this slow. That’s how much I like you.

That being said, I really hope you’ll get back to me so we can “catch up.”

hahaha

I’m sure you get that all the time. I really do hope you know I’m being genuine and  I’m not sort of tomatHOE.

Ok I’ll stop.

I love you,

CarissaJaded (your biggest fan)

P.S.

I know this might be a little weird for you, but I also love cheese and tabasco sauce so I was thinking  that maybe one of these days… nevermind.

**If you do not know about Whataburger fancy ketchup please send me your address and I will send you one. I’m serious. In fact I’ll do a giveaway. Yeah…. comment here and one of you will get a fancy ketchup in the mail.

**I’m serious about the ketchup, but there will be an ACTUAL giveaway later this week. It’s supercool and I’m really excited about it so stay tuned.

Time out… Let’s take another look at my car and make sure you’re not in there.

No? Well we really can’t be sure, can we? You haven’t even seen the back seat yet. And I’m not going to bother with that because quite frankly it disgusts me to look at.

Anydisgustingness, I keep hearing about how this Craigslist world is such a magical place. I spent a million hours on it a day when I was looking for a jobby-job. As a result I never got a job, but I did go on many interesting interviews. However, it seems like everyone else that I know in the whole-wide-world has had magnificent success on Craigslist. I have friends who have sold cars in an hour, found great deals on iphones, and it seems some people have great success finding hookups. I’ll admit, I’ve spent quite a bit of time perusing the Men seeking men section. It’s quite amusing.

I know I’ve mentioned that I’m moving in a couple of weeks, and I have no idea where. Actually, there are quite a few things I need to work out in the next few weeks… I have  things to get rid of, I need a bed, and I’m not sure how I’m going to survive outside of my current living situation.

It’s very bitter sweet. I currently have 2 roommates, two of them being my two favorite gay boys in the world. Now they are moving off to live on their own, and while I’m super pumped about living with my BFF LA, who is going to blow dry my hair when I’m too lazy to do so? Who is going to make high-pitched pig oinks to deter me from eating a brownie? Who the hell is going to stop me from leaving the house looking like a homeless person?????  And once again… where am I going to live???????

In an act of desperation, I’ve decided to turn to Craigslist for answers. I know what I’m looking for may not exist, but if everything I’ve heard about Craigslist is true- I figure it’s worth a try!!!

Housing wanted: Looking for house/condo/castle/bungalow/log cabin/mansion

Location: DFW

We are 2 girls looking for housng for rent in the DFW area. We would like to be close to Fort Worth, but I work in Butt-Effing-North Dallas, so preferably something in the middle of the two. We could probably afford anything up to $1,300- but would really like to stay in the $600-$900 price range so that we have more money left over for booze and DVDs. We need a minimum of three bedrooms, a large back yard, a pool and hot tub (with a hot pool boy included,) a wet bar, 2 master bathrooms, jacuzzi tubs, a fountain, a statue somewhere in the yard, a two car garage, 2 living areas, an office, an exercise room, a wet bar, and a bidet.

Neither of us are very clean, but we promise to stuff everything in our closets if the land-lord ever needs to stop by. Actually we would prefer a land-lord that lives out of the country. Must be pet friendly as my roommate will be bringing her poop-eating Basset hound, and I will be buying a new rat in the near future. Or maybe a ferrett, I haven’t decided yet. I would reallllly like a monkey, but I’m not sure that is legal.

We are friendly neighbors, and expect the same out of anyone who lives near us!! To be more specific we would really like to live next to hot single boys. They must like to drink beer and know how to fix things and it would really help if they know how to cook.

On the other side, we would like to live next door to an old lady who likes to make ice tea and bring us left-overs.

We aren’t very loud but do like to sing and hold dance parties in our living room. We may not pay rent on time every month, but if we don’t, we promise to have super good excuses.

Can’t wait to live in your home!!

Roommate wanted: Looking for gay roommate to fill some  big shoes!!

Location: DFW

Heeeeeyyyyyyyy Lovahs!!!!!

Do you need a place to live? Do you like to clean and lot drink wine? Do you know every word to the Rent soundtrack?? We may be the roommates for you!!!

I am losing my gay best roommate, and I need a replacement ASAP.

Must love singing, watching Glee, and indulging my taste for cheezy romance movies. I sometimes forget to unplug things like hair rollers or flat-irons, so I need someone who will leave for work after me, and who will check for these things. Must be computer savvy, and know how to fix my phone when it freezes up. It is imperative that you like cheese… a lot. You must like/and know how to break in a pair of high heels in short amount of time. Must lovvvveeee to do dishes, or at least hate the way that I do them- so that you will do them yourself. It would be a great plus if you enjoy organizing things on shelves and know how to clean up an exploded toilet.

In addition your duties will also include: making sure I pay my bills, cooking all of my meals, blowing out my candles that I leave burning, figuring out how to put the tv on DVD mode, making the internet work on my computer, cleaning up glass when I drop my wine, ironing my hair with the clothes- iron when I want it really shiny, telling me when I’m being a bitch, reminding me to take back my movies, and telling me that you have all the symptoms as I do when I think I’m dying so that I don’t think I’m going to die alone.

I can deal with the bugs that need squishing, but I will need someone who will not tell anyone if I drunkenly decide to pee in an empty water cooler in the garage. I’ll keep your secrets for you too!!

Can’t wait play board games and sneak wine into art house movies with you!!!!

Jobs/Volunteer/Intern: Life Coach/decision maker needed

Location: DFW

I am a single, indecisive girl looking for a companion to help me through life!! You can be male or female, but I am (mostly) looking for a platonic relationship- so if you’re male it would be best if you’re asexual.

Job Description: Make every decision for me.

Details: Your job will be to make sure that I make no more silly mistakes in life, though if I do- you will be responsible for them.

Must be able to make quick, smart, decisions. These will range anywhere from big-life changing decisions (should I text, or should I not text) to small decisions that may or may not have an impact on my life (what should I eat for dinner.)

Skills: Nutrition, fashion, boys, social networking, facebook updating, dealing with drunk people.

Compensation: None.

___

Wish me luck!!

Ok wow. I went (almost) three entire days without even looking at the internet, and while I missed everyone, it felt really good to unplug for a few days. But now I have that overwhelming “look at all that I have missed” feeling that I usually have on Sunday evenings as I attempt to catch up on blog posts and emails.

The weekend was a good one, people, as they almost always are.

I did learn a few realizations this weekend.

The first realization being that it is probably a really good thing that I don’t have a web-cam. Friday evening, my girl LA and I went over to one of our friends house after boozin it up a bit, and we proceeded to have a dance party and film ourselves in action. I was hoping to be able to share some of this awesomeness with you, but due to technical difficulties, this will have to wait until further notice. I’m pretty sure if I had a web-cam of my own, I would end up losing my job, all my friends, and all my dignity (wait, do I still have that?) because every single second of my life would be spent making ridiculous dance videos.

I realized that I may be getting a little too old for the phenomenon known as the “after party.” Saturday I went to my college town for a friend’s birthday, which is always a blast/trouble/ends with a sing-star or dance party marathon. After falling down approximately 4 times, I fell asleep in the middle of about 25 people. Nicccceeeee.

I also realized that though I may sometimes take it too far, “That’s what she said,” NEVAH gets old.

Although it means completely failing at any attempt to stick to a diet, every once in a while- a Sunday afternoon filled with cheese fries, wings, bloody marys and beer is totally, undeniably, worth it. That, and a four hour conversation with good friends, recounting every good 80′s television show and movie, and every song related to them. Oh and add in a few performances of NSYNC to an entire bar… and perhaps a rendition of my high school performance of M’lynne in Steel Magnolia’s “I could jog to Texas and back speech… It was a perfect Sunday Funday.

Some people are just douchenozzles at the end of the day. (Let’s thank my bud Julie from Life on a Hanger for infiltrating douchenozzle into my daily vocab.) For now on that is my philosophy. I looked back on the last year and realized how much time I’ve wasted analyzing my actions and thinking that I have done something wrong in  relationships. There have been many MANY times when I have acted a fool… but at the same time, for the majority of these situations, I shouldn’t have spent so much time making myself feel bad and trying to figure out what the exact foolish thing that I did in each particular situation. Sometimes it’s poor timing, sometimes it just wasn’t meant to be… and sometimes people are just Captain douchenozzles that don’t deserve 5 minutes of my mind-time.

Terry Gilliam makes good film. Heath ledger was amazing. Johnny Depp is too. And in a completely unrelated movie, so is Jeff Bridges.

I am moving out in less than a month, and I still have no idea where we are moving!!!! Can someone please find my roomie and I a house that is magically 5 minutes from Ft Worth AND Frisco. Or maybe one of those beamer things from Star Trek? Or that nose from bewitched.

Oh… and I just took an ambien so this post is about to get ridiculous if I don’t end it soon… So let’s move on to Post- it-Notes. Stick em up, whatttt???  For more awesome Post it’s, check out Supah Mommy’s page. Mucho entertainment people. Join in if ya want too!!!

I am still planning on posting about each of them, but I figure I’ll start with the one that was both asked the most, and the one that will be the most difficult to recount.

So here it is for those of you who were curious: the story of how I was almost a contestant on The Biggest Loser (though it is not nearly as exciting as it sounds.)  I really hope I’m not gonna have NBC on my ass for talking about it, but I’m pretty sure that I’m in the clear after all this time.

I suppose I should start this with a little background. This is pretty much the story that I had to tell a million times during the audition process, so I suppose it is pretty pertinent.

I was never one of those kids who could eat whatever they wanted. I started watching my weight around the age of 10, and even more so when I got more into dance. It wasn’t that I was ever really “big” per se, it just didn’t come as easily to me as it did to others, or at least that’s the way it felt back then. I remember being in dance class and having to wear two piece outfits and feeling completely uncomfortable.

The older I got, the more uncomfortable I was with my body. We had to do monthly weigh-ins at dance, and there was nothing that plagued me more than the thought of gaining a pound or two and having it announced to everyone. Eventually my body image problems escalated into a full-fledged eating disorder. I am not going to go into details now, that might be better fodder for a TMI post, but let’s just say that eventually it got out of hand. Right before college I decided it was time to seek help.

I started out college as a dance major, which meant that I spent a lot of time in front of mirrors. At the same time I was trying to put a stop to my eating disorder, which consequently (and rightly so) made me gain weight. I knew that if I wanted to quit being destructive to myself, I would have to stop spending so much time examining myself.

I quit dance. I pretty much quit exercising altogether. I started eating and held it down. I learned to enjoy life without worrying about food and exercise and what people thought about the way I looked. I drank a lot. I ate horribly because I grew up being a terribly picky eater and really didn’t know any better.

And you know what? I had a fucking blast.

I was conscious, even at the time, that I was gaining weight at a rapid pace, but at the same time- for the first time that I could remember- I was really happy. I found new passions and I met people who didn’t talk obsess about their appearance. I found out that people liked me for more than my appearance.  I am aware now that I switched out one destructive behavior for another, but looking back- I really have no regrets. I don’t think that I’d ever be where I am now without going through that stage. I wish it could have been avoided but it wasn’t, and I’m a better person for it.

My first year after college, things started to get a little more difficult for me. I knew that I had gone to the other extreme, and I knew that I had to do something about it if I wanted to be healthy or if I wanted to live, for that matter. I noticed that people started treating me different because of my size. People can be really mean, and although I usually held my head high and shook it off, it hurt. Bad.

I’m a relatively small person (5’2″, or 5’3″ if you’re looking at my driver’s license) and when I went to the doctor and found out that I had reached 250 lbs I went into shock. I had completely avoided doctors and scales for the last 6 years, and although I knew I was big, I had no idea it was that bad.

I was working as an intern for a local on-line newspaper at the time, and when I learned that The Biggest Loser was holding auditions across from my office, I joked that I should try out. I had never seen the show, (it was only in the second season at the time, but I have still never watched it!!) but most of my friends watched it religiously. With a little encouragement from my closest friends, I decided that “all jokes aside,” this might be a good opportunity for me. After all, I did always want to be on tv (though not necessarily in a sports bra) and I knew that gut wasn’t going to lose itself.

When I walked into the first audition, I really didn’t know what to expect. I had filled out 20 pages of questions about myself, and was told that there would be a group interview. I remember walking into the restaurant (Dave and Busters, of all places) where it was held and being completely overwhelmed by all the… well the extremely large people. The majority of the people there trumped me in size by at least 100 lbs. I waited in line for nearly 3 hours before the first round of interviews.

They finally called my group of about 20 people into the “interview” room and sat us in a circle. I remember  being squished between two people and I was afraid that I wouldn’t be seen. They asked questions to the group and I was intimidated by all the loud, overbearing, (for lack of a better word) people fighting for attention. I didn’t do anything to stand out, I just sat back and waited for them to ask me a question directly, and when I answered I was nervous as hell.

And then after the interview as I was leaving the room, I tripped and fell, taking about 3 chairs down with me. I laughed and said something awkward, I’m sure… but afterward 2 of the casting people started laughing and talked to me a little longer.

A few weeks later I got a call that they were interested, and they asked me to make a video showing a glimpse of my life. I had no idea what to do, how to make a video, or how I should come across. So I got out my huge old camera and basically tried to do just what they asked. I filmed a little bit of my home life, some clips of me rapping at a bar, and made a spoof of an NBC “The More You Know” public service announcement.

After I sent my tape in I didn’t hear anything for another month or so. When I did, they asked me to go for another round of one on one interviews at a local fitness club. During this interview they had me tell my story and wanted me to cry a lot, which usually comes easy to me, but when put on the spot, it was nearly impossible. At one point the even wanted me to “dance” for the camera. I fell during this portion too… Not cool Carissa.

After another month that was full of phone interviews, background checks, and more paperwork- I was asked to go spend a week being sequestered in LA. I had to sign  (what seemed like) a thousand page contract and was not supposed to tell anyone where I was going. I was supposed to pack for 3 months, in case I got cast for the show.

The time I spent in LA turned out to be the most boring week of my life. They put me up in a really nice hotel room, but I wasn’t allowed to talk to any of the other contestants. I couldn’t leave without the accompaniment of one of the production assistants. Other than a 10 hour physical where they did everything but drug test my hair, and a few interviews and psychiatric evaluations- I spent the majority of the time dancing in my room with the air conditioning vent blowing on my hair whilst pretending I was in a music video. I started to convince myself that I wasn’t there for  The Biggest Loser after all, but for a reality show about the crazy things people do when they are trapped in a hotel room.

Every day they sent home more people. The production staff and casting directors all told me that the producers were digging on me, but I had no idea what to really think about any of it. Eventually the last day came around, and I was told that morning that in a few hours they would come to get me to take cast pictures and so I could get my t-shirt.

I waited…

and waited….

Finally, after several hours of pacing I called one of my favorite casting directors to see what was going on. She came up to talk to me in my room and I could tell it wasn’t going to be good. She basically explained that at the last minute they decided to go with another contestant. One of the producers was worried about the stigma that would come with having someone on the show that had previously had an eating disorder. She said that they really liked me and that there was a really good possibility that they would put me on the next season.

And yes, I basically went through the same process a year later… only to be told once again that “my story” wasn’t right for the season. I even got told at one point that if I could find a “bigger person” for the couples edition and make up a story about my relationship with them, that I would for sure get on.

The more this shit drug on, the more angry it made me. I am all about a little cheese and even a little drama, but I wasn’t going to lie on television. I also got sick of fake crying about my situation. I have been through a lot, but while I was a bigger person, I was still happier than I had been when I was sick.

To make a long story short, while the whole experience  pisses the hell out of me…  I still think I owe the majority of my weight loss to the Biggest Loser. After the last audition process, I grew really tired of waiting on someone else to fix my problems for me. I knew that if those people on tv could change their lives and lose  a ton of weight, then I could do it to… with or without Jillian Michaels.

And I have.

People ask me all the time “how I did it.”  I get really nervous every time I see someone that I haven’t seen in years because I know the question is coming. It makes me happy that people have noticed the changes that I’ve made, but I still get really flustered when it is brought up. I am proud at what I’ve achieved, but at the same time it kind of bothers me that it is such a big deal… even though I know it is.  I wish I had some magical answer. I hate when people say that their weight loss was just a result from working out a few times a weak and cutting down on cheese. I also get mad when people assume that I have had some sort of surgery or that I take diet pills.

The truth is, it wasn’t easy. It still isn’t. There are days when I feel weak and want to take the easy way out. There are days when I want to skip the gym. There are days when all I want to do is eat a pound of Reeses Pieces. And there are days that I do fall off the wagon and eat a good amount of Reeses Pieces, though now they are few and far between.

I’ve lost over a hundred pounds the last 2 years and there are times where I will see myself in the mirror and not recognize who I see. I’ve changed on the inside too, but all in all, I’m still the same person. I’ve been at both extremes and sometimes I am confused at where I stand. I still get really annoyed when I hear people making fun of  “fat” people, because in a way, I’m still that person. I can also now talk for hours about how addicting a healthy lifestyle is, and how much it can do for your mental state. I’m not sure I will ever be done with this journey. I don’t think it’s necessarily even a journey of weight loss, so much as it is a journey of figuring out how to make the most out of my life.

And there it is. Thanks for sticking with me throughout this ridiculously long post.  I actually feel better having talked about this, even though I don’t usually do so…. I think I’ll stay away from the serious for a while though. It hurts my head. Happy Humpalicious day people!