Kristann Monaghan's Blog, page 7

Random Blog Topic: #NoPantsAreTheBestPants

I know you have all heard me talk about how sometimes I don’t like to wear pants.  But you might be wondering why.  Why the no pants?  I am here to tell you, my dear readers, why no pants are the best pants (this is also my favorite hashtag btw).  I know there are others out there who feel the same as I do about not wearing pants all the time.  Who are you?  Raise your hands high so we can all check to see if you are wearing pants while reading this and applaud you if you are not.  BFF does not understand why I choose to not wear pants.  Like at all.  So hence this random blog topic which is courtesy of a fellow author Sara Ney….you should check her out as well.  I adore her stuff and I might stalk her on occasion, but in reality she likes it.  She also doesn’t like to wear pants.  Not a lot of us authors do actually when I think about it.  We choose outfits to write in that are the least binding and the most comfortable.  Some days that involves no pants.

I really do feel that some days are no pants days.  No mind you, this is usually best achieved at home as not wearing pants in public could prove to be a risky move on your part.  I mean, if you don’t mind the awkward stares and possibly making new friends in the jail, then by all means don’t wear pants in public.  But be aware this might put you on a public registry of sorts and you might be told to stay away from schools.  Just saying.  It is not like I wake up and say “Today is a glorious day to not wear pants”…ok maybe I do.  Usually, the first step to not wearing pants is to think about your day.  Do you have to go anywhere that would require pants?  Are you expecting company?  Do you feel too fat for pants?  Do you want to just sit on your couch and eat all the things?  These are important questions that need to be answered.  Once I have decided the answers to these questions, then I usually decide not to wear pants.  Pants can be constrictive, cut off circulation, leave indents in your stoob, and make prisoners of your legs.  Some days, these things just aren’t worth it to me.  So be warned if you show up at my house unexpected that I might not have pants on.  For reals.

Some days, the decision to not wear pants happens later in the day.  I come home from doing whatever I have been doing that day and the first thing that happens is the pants come off.  I don’t need no stinking pants!  They are left usually in a sad pile somewhere on my floor awaiting their time to once again imprison my legs and make fun patterns on my stoob with their wrinkles and buttons.  I might even glower at them, accusing them of this red design now etched into my skin as I stride off without them.  Take that pants!  You should try it.  Seriously.  Right now.  Take off your pants and do some normal activity.  I am writing right now without pants on.  Try just walking around your living room without pants.  Now watch tv without them.  There is a sense of freedom that comes without wearing pants.  Now have a dance party without them….this is the best and I do it frequently.  Who cares what you look like without pants?  I don’t.  Shake your booty and feel the joy of not being caged in by society’s norms.

Some days I feel too fat to wear pants.  Every pair is a struggle to get on and comes complete with a jiggle here and a jump around there to even get them on.  Even the other day at work I felt like a busted can of biscuits in my scrubs and wished I could not wear pants at work but that might get me fired.  And then I couldn’t afford pants or my house if I didn’t have a job.  Then I would get arrested because I would not have a home or pants.  It would be on some national registry and might have a prison wife all because I didn’t wear pants to work and got fired.  So I kept on my scrub pants, no matter how tight they felt.  This is an example of when you SHOULD wear pants.  But you can guess what I did when I got home….yup removed the pants that caused me to feel like a busted can of biscuits.  And then proceeded to not wear pants to bed either.  Having a fat day is a perfect example (unless you are working) of an occasion that screams to not wear pants.  Then, since you are already feeling fat, you can eat your feelings with all the things.  No….really though maybe this will give you cause to stop and think about what you can do to change why your pants are not fitting and stop eating Red Vines by the package (not that I have any experience in this realm and one is not hanging out of my mouth as I type).  Not wearing pants might just jump-start you in your weight loss journey because you want your pants to fit better even if you choose not to wear them.  So see…good things can come out of not wearing pants.

There are days that my choice of pants are not really what you would call pants.  These are days I choose to wear what my friends and I call “butterpants” AKA LuLaRoe leggings.  Holy cow people.  These truly feel like you are not wearing pants at all.  I am not joking when I tell you that these leggings are the softest things you have ever put on your legs and never feel like leg prisons.  They really are the best “pants” to wear to write in because they don’t constrict or ind or make the angry patterns on your stoob.  They come in fun prints and I just throw them on with a t-shirt and I am set to be at my computer for long periods of time.  Plus then the leather of my chair doesn’t stick to my butt or if someone comes over like Bubby, then I am wearing some sort of leg covering and not just my unders and a t-shirt.  That is not fun for my Bubby at all.  But hey….he has learned to tell me he is coming over so I can put on pants.  Some of you might have seen my posts on Instagram (follow me there ——> thefatgirlrunning) when I post pics of my butterpants when I am writing or curled up with a good book.  I don’t even care if my shirt doesn’t cover my butt when I wear these.  I mean it wont if I am in just my unders so what difference is there?  None.  These are the days that it might be too cold to wear just my unders and so butterpants are the perfect substitution.  This might be an option for you if you have small children around all the time or are freaked out by the fact of not wearing any pants at all.  Baby steps for those of you who need them.  Those of you who don’t…just take off the pants man.  No pants are the best pants.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did sit here, sans pants, and write about the joys of not wearing any pants but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl who encourages you to not wear pants when it is appropriate unless you want a prison wife Running.  The experiment continues…

Random Sprint Blog: Thoughts On Tofu (Assigned By BFF)

Sometimes when I can’t figure out what to write, I ask BFF and she gives me a random topic (and I do mean random) to stir up my creative process.  You all want to shoot me some random topics, then please do so!!  Today, I decided to sprint with some author friends to get some writing done for you all.  Sprinting (not the running kind) is when we all, in different parts of the US, at a designated time write as much as we can for an hour and see who wins.  It really makes me write (because I like a challenge and I like to win) and sometimes get a blog for you which I am hoping this will be but we shall see.  Today’s random blog topic, brought to you by BFF, is tofu.  Yup.  Tofu.  I warned you it would be random so let’s see….what can I say about tofu, except for it is disgusting.  Hmmmm…

A lot of people I know have been trying to get healthy, something I am always trying to do and failing at…repeatedly.  Everyone on my unit seems to be doing the Whole 30 or clean eating or some shit like that and I am over here eating frosting out of a can.  No joke.  The struggle is real.  I am surrounded by people trying to eat well and fill themselves full of veggies and fruit and other such weird things.  To say I am unsure of all of this stuff is an understatement.  I want to eat healthy.  I want to lose weight.  I want to look good naked.  But I also want tacos…and pizza…and noodles.  Sometimes I feel like yelling like Oprah does on the new Weight Watchers commercial about loving bread to all these people.  Because I do love bread.  One thing I cannot stomach, no matter how hard I try is tofu.  I am pretty sure this is a texture issue for me and is why I cannot stomach tofu.

Tofu to me has the weirdest consistency and texture.  Hence the texture issue.  What?  It is a real thing.  BFF has texture issues too.  She thinks anything gummy tastes human to her.  Not that I want to know if she knows what human tastes like and how, but that is how she described it to me.  I personally love gummi anything, but since I have a texture issue with things like tofu, eggplant and especially flan (I just gagged writing that word), I get her texture issue.  I know, I know.  Everyone tells me tofu tastes so good because it takes on the flavor of whatever you cook it with, but really I cannot get past the conglomerated blob of mush that it looks like when you take it out of the tub it comes in.  I mean, what the hell is tofu supposed to taste like if it takes on the flavors of things around you?  Does it taste like nothing?  Does it have a flavor?  Tofu kind of freaks me out a little to be honest.  It just looks like something you would eat in a science fiction movie.  Weird little block of gelatinous goo that people eat with relish.  Ew.  Nope not me.  I don’t even eat it in my miso soup.  I pick it out so I don’t have to put the offensive stuff in my mouth. Talking about this though, reminds me of a funny story involving Little Red and tofu.

You shouldn’t be able to cut your food off a block.  This grosses me out.  

My god daughters absolutely love sushi.  Those girls beg me to take them to our local favorite sushi place when they visit (of course I say yes, because sushi) and they have a Christmas Eve tradition with their parents of eating sushi.  Parenting done right I tell ya.  Kids, if introduced to something early enough, will usually eat it or grow to like it.  The Reds have no problem eating things like quail eggs and love to pick out different sushi rolls to try.  I love it.  Sometimes, Big Red will just get some tempura shrimp and quail eggs.  It is her favorite thing.  Little Red also has a favorite and hers is miso soup.  The first time I took them to eat sushi and ordered some for myself, she asked to try it.  She must have been about 3 or 4 at the time.  I gave her some and she proceeded to eat the whole bowl, declaring it her favoritest thing ever.  So much for me eating my soup.

The next time we went out to eat sushi, BFF and I were in the car with the Reds and asked the what they wanted to eat.  Little Red proceeds to tell us all about how she wants “cheese soup”.  BFF and I look at each other in confusion, because there is no cheese soup at the sushi restaurant.  BFF asks her again and we are given the same reply…”Cheese soup” complete with an exasperated look that only a 4-year-old can give you.  We both just sat there and looked at each other and the menu trying to figure out what the heck she meant by “cheese soup”.  I think we must have scoured that menu over and over looking for the “cheese soup” trying to figure out what the heck she meant.  Finally, BFF leans towards her and asks if she has had the “cheese soup” at the restaurant before.  Little Red gives her an annoyed 4 year old look and replies that she had it last time because I let her eat mine.  OHHHHHH!  She must mean miso soup!  We giggled a little and then I ordered some for her.  When it came, she looked at us and calmly held up her spoon with a chunk of tofu in it and said  “See!  Cheese soup Nina!”  Neither of us had the heart to tell her it was tofu and we all to this day call it “cheese soup”.  To this day, I don’t even know if Little Red knows that it is tofu she is eating because she still calls it cheese.

Now, don’t try to convince me that I just haven’t had tofu cooked the right way or that I am wrong.  It really is a texture thing.  I can’t do it  And don’t try and sneak it to me either.  I will know.  Really I can tell.  Ew.  Just ew.  As for all this Whole 30, clean eating, sugar purge stuff….nope.  Not going to happen.  I like to eat way to much.  I will stick with Weight Watchers and walking.  I can’t limit myself and cut things out of my diet.  I will try to eat healthier but I can’t cut hings out of my diet just because everyone else is doing it. Fresh veggies and fruit…sure.  But no tofu.  That is totally not happening.  Not in this lifetime.  I am going to go back to eating my frosting out of the can thank you very much.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did get assigned a random topic by BFF and actually wrote about it even though it is gross (Little Red made that topic even better) but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl with texture issues and giggling about “cheese soup” Running.  The experiment continues…

 

Damn The Man. Save The Empire. Quit Shaming Girls.

Warning.  This might be a bit of a rant but I really cannot help it.  This is a subject that might make you uncomfortable or it might right piss you off like it did me.  Remember how I discussed getting your period for the first time awhile ago?  Well, I was recently discussing this with my book peeps when I was told the most disturbing news ever.  Several of them told me horror stories about their daughters getting their periods at school but NOT being allowed to go to the bathroom to clean up or change.  EXCUSE ME?  The fact that I heard this from several of them and not just one blew me away.  What is our society coming to that girls are not allowed to go to the bathroom to clean themselves up?  Let me give my two cents on this subject.

If you are someone who does not understand why I am so upset about this, then let me try to explain this to you.  First off, these are young junior high and high school girls I am talking about.  Their self esteems can be damaged by the slightest tease or comment from anyone, but especially boys.  Now imagine you are a girl about 12-13 and you have just begun to get your periods for the first time.  This means they are highly irregular and unpredictable.  You have no idea when Mother Nature is going to pull some type of cruel joke and let forth the Stream of Motherhood into your pants.  There you are, minding your own business in class, when you feel a gush.  You know you didn’t just pee your pants and your anxiety starts to rise.  You panic as you start to wonder several things:  Can  you make it to the bathroom in time to apply some sort of dam to the flood that is occurring?  Will it soak through to your pants and is it too late?  Do you have anything you can discreetly shove in your underwear while at your desk?  And of course you don’t have a jacket to tie around your waist as you stand up to hide the fact that your outfit now is accessorized by a blotch of red that stretches from the front of your pelvis to your ass crack.  Like someone dipped a paint brush in bright red paint and covered your private area with it.  THAT is what if feels and looks like my friends.  Now imagine raising your hand to ask to go to the bathroom, prepared to let everyone see the crime scene that is starting to make patterns on the chair you are sitting on, and being denied the request.  You must sit there in your own bodily fluid soaked clothes and then be told you also can not go change your clothes after class, so you must now wear the Badge of Womanhood for all to see.  And I mean everyone. You must now parade around for the rest of your day looking like you took part in a serial killer’s rampage.  How would that make you feel?  Because I guarantee you, that it is DEVASTATING to a young teen girl.  Hell, it is devastating to me and I am in my 40’s.

My question is why?  Why won’t teachers allow girls to go to the bathroom?  And before you say they are males, I must tell you they ARE NOT.  These were female teachers that did this to these girls.  I can understand if you have chronic bathroom user, but these girls are also not that and even if they were, they should still be allowed to go shove a wad of cotton up their crotch to stop the rage of Mother Nature before it becomes a dire emergency.  These girls came home, ashamed of their bodies, crying over the fact that they got teased for a natural process that is a taboo subject anyways (don’t get me started there), their fragile self esteems damaged in a way that cannot be undone.  Now they have to fear their periods even more.  They will stress about this happening again, trying to figure out how to prevent it instead of paying attention in class.  It will consume them come the next month when their period is about to start.  It will make them want to hide their bodies, something they are already awkward about, and make them ashamed to be a girl.  Girls should absolutely be allowed to go to the bathroom to clean up the murder scene in their pants and change their clothes, even if it is into their gym shorts for the rest of the day which is basically announcing to the junior high world that your period started anyways, without the visual aide.  One of the mothers told me she now hides a change of clothes and supplies in the bottom of her daughter’s backpack, covered to make it look like the bottom of the bag, so that her daughter has what she needs when she her period starts.  HIDES them.  Did you read that?  Is this what we have come to in our children’s schools that you have to hide supplies and a change of clothes for your daughter because she has a heavy period? Another one of my friends told me that her daughter’s best friend, a guy, tied his jacket around her to help her in covering up because he felt so bad.  This is unacceptable.  Why are we punishing girls for starting their periods?

Can we change this culture in our schools?  I mean, I don’t expect every school to celebrate a girl’s time of the month with a party, streamers and gifts of a Diva Cup, but I do feel we need to have a conversation with our girls.  We need to empower our girls about their bodies.  We need to encourage them to stand up for what is right and maybe make people feel a little uncomfortable.  I am not saying that they should wear their Red Badge of Courage proudly…unless they want to…but they should be able to say that they need to use the bathroom because they are bleeding from their vagina.  Or some sort of words like that.  Girls should not be demoralized because they bleed every month.  They should not feel shame.  They should not dread being teased.  Stand up for your fellow girls.  Do not allow bullying to occur…and to me these teachers are doing just that.  They are creating a culture of bullying.  Even if we have to create a secret signal, like raising three fingers in the air Hunger Games style to say that a girl needs to go to the bathroom because of her period, then let us do that.  Change this culture surrounding having your period.

Sorry for my rage.  My rage against the stigma of bleeding from your lady parts and not being able to go to the bathroom.  My rage against being made to sit in a puddle of your own blood and feel it run down your legs as you stand up, your shoes soon squishy with the pool in them.  This is what I rage against.  Rage against the shaming of our young girls.  Rage against the machine.  Rage against the man.  Damn the man.  Save the Empire. Quit shaming girls.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did however get extremely angry about this culture of shaming girls about their periods, but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl damning the man and saving the empire Running.  The experiment continues…

On Being Evacuated From Hyperspace Mountain

When you go to a place like Disneyland, they create a certain amount of “magic” on every ride.  They take it very serious.  Once, we asked a Cast Member how Tinkerbell flew over the castle during the fireworks and she answered “Why Pixie Dust, of course!”  We laughed but then tried to ask her again and we got the same answer.  You will recall, that we went this last trip for the Star Wars “magic” and were not disappointed….well, once we were.  Only once.  And this is how BFF and I had to get evacuated from Hyperspace Mountain.

Normally at Disneyland, Space Mountain is a fantastic roller coaster ride in the dark, that simulates you flying through space.  It is so much fun and goes super fast.  For the Star Wars release, Disneyland changed Space Mountain to Hyperspace Mountain and we really had no idea what to expect.  The four of us decided this was one of the first rides we would go get fast passes for since we knew the lines for it were going to be horrendous due to the enhancement.  When we all finally got in line, we were super excited.  You are talking about four Star Wars geeks, all wearing Star Wars t-shirts, getting on a favorite ride (it is BFF’s absolute favorite ride in the park) that is now Star Warsed up.  We climbed into the rocket cars (you step into them as there are no doors) and pulled our lap bars down.  AS we started, and the Stars Wars theme music started, there might have been four Star Wars geeks in the front two rows who all cheered, clapped, and squeed with delight but I can’t be for sure. No really, that happened.  We really did get that excited and the Cast Member sitting up in the “control booth” might have laughed and smiled down at us.  The ride was AMAZING!!  None of us really thought Space Mountain could get any better, but imagine not only flying through space, but being part of a battle between the Rebel Alliance and the Galactic Empire and you have Hyperspace Mountain.  Tie Fighters and X-Wing Fighters swooshing around you, lasers going off in front of you, the Death Star above you….nothing prepared us for the experience of Hyperspace Mountain and we left satisfied and wanting to ride it again immediately.  We did ride it several more times over the next few days, but it was when BFF and I rode just the two of us, that it was not so magical.

The excitement is real.  As is BFF’s hair in Bubby’s face.

On our last day, BFF and I had these “magic” fast passes from staying at the Grand Californian.  They allowed us to get on any ride that had fast passes available at any time of our choosing.  We chose to use these for one last ride on Hyperspace Mountain since we loved it so much.  We climbed in the back of a rocket car, pulled down our lap bars, and started our journey….well sort of.  As we turned the corner to start the climb up into hyperspace, the lights all came on and our car stopped.  We looked at each other, a little frightened and laughing a bit as we had discussed with Bubby and Pocket Fiance about what this ride must look like with the lights on at some point in line.  All of a sudden, there was a loud booming voice overhead, alerting us to the fact that Cast Members would be by soon to assist us in our evacuation of the ride.  Evacuation?  So, ok….this ride was not gonna happen today.  BFF and I got super nervous….I mean we were on a hill.  How were they gonna get us out?  A few minutes went by and 2 girl Cast members walked by, asked everyone in the cars if we were alright and then let us know that they had to go further in to the ride to rescue those people and would be back for us.  How long was that gonna be?  Were we going to have to resort to cannibalism?  Can we squeeze out of the lap bars ad get out of the cars?  These were all questions we asked each other as we waited and thanked our foresight for having gone to the restroom before the ride.  What seemed like an eternity later, with the same voice repeating the same announcement in this incredibly ear-splitting volume every few minutes, two male Cast Members came by and stood by our cars, joking with us and waiting for the girls to come back before we could be evacuated.  Finally, they climbed down all the stairs (yes!  There are stairs all along the sides) to our car to explain the evacuation procedure.

Will we have to resort to cannibalism?  This is a pressing question.

The Cast Members explained that they would release the lap bars, we would climb out and slide down the side of the car until we hit the stairs.  Now for the front of the car, this is not that far as they were closer.  For BFF and I, our end of the car, the back end, was about head high for the male Cast Members.  All I could think of, as I watched the people in front of me easily climb out of the car, was how in the world was I going to hoist my Fat Girl Butt over the edge of this rocket car and slide down it to the ground below?  It was a real concern.  I really did not know how I was going to get over the side of the car.  I was starting to sweat with stress, knowing that everyone is going to be watching The Fat Girl attempt to hoist herself out of the car and not fall.  I started to giggle nervously as I waited for my turn to come.  The lap bar was released and all the people in front of BFF and I got out easily.  Then it was my turn.  Oh lordy.  Here we go.  I turned and tried to figure out how I was gonna get over the side.  I can’t lift myself up with my arms cuz I am fat.  As I struggled for what felt like forever but in reality was only a minute or two, the Cast Member asked me if I needed help.  Yeah.  The last thing I need is to crush some poor Cast Member as I fall out of the damn ride. Or to be the one person, the Fat Girl, that has to be helped out of the ride, with some sort of crane, because I am too fat to do it myself.  I finally figured out if I stood up on the seat, I could slide down the car, my shirt riding up the entire time exposing my stoob to everyone, and safely land on the floor.  Yeah that wasn’t embarrassing at all.  BFF climbed out easily and our group is led out through the empty building.  It was way creepy, the empty building with all the lights on and nobody around.  The good thing to come out of being rescued from a ride?  They give you and even more “magic” fast pass that is good for immediate entrance to any ride in the park.  ANY ride people!  BFF and I chose wisely and used it for Peter Pan…Booyah to not having to wait that 45 minute wait! SCORE!

When the lights come on, it is not so Hyperspacey or magical for that matter.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  BFF and I did have a not so magical experience and have to e rescued from Hyperspace Mountain, but we didn’t die (or result to cannibalism I am happy to report).  I am Fat Girl who extricated herself from the rocket car and showed a bunch of strangers my stoob but got a magic fast pass and bypassed everyone on Peter Pan Running.  The experiment continues….

The Day My Sister In Law Discovered I Am A Robot

One of the reasons we went to Disneyland this last trip was to see all the Star Wars:  Seasons of the Force stuff that Disney was putting out special for the geeky fans like us.  Remember how I told you that we went into a building where all these cool Star Wars exhibits were (and where upon exiting I learned I could fly)?  Well, at the top floor of this building was Super Hero HQ, since Disney owns Marvel, and we went up there to meet some Avengers and look at that stuff too.  I mean might as well, right?  It was in this moment that my future sister in law (AKA Pocket Fiance) discovered I am really a robot.

We went up and had our picture taken with Spider-Man first and that was pretty cool.  The cast members really get into these photo ops and some of them were dressed as Agents of Shield and were busy talking with us like they were really secret agents.  Spider-Man was pretty cool and played around with us while posing for photos.  Then as we walked around, we saw we could also meet Thor.  And who doesn’t want to meet Thor?  So we got in line and stood there before a door waiting to get to enter.  BFF and I had met Thor on a previous visit, but I had forgotten exactly what the whole experience was like, maybe because I was so excited to meet Thor.  Okay, I realize it isn’t the REAL Thor, but these photo ops are just as fun for adults as they are for kids.  The door opened and we were ushered into a small room with replicas of props they used in the movies (or artifacts from Thor’s planet, Asgard, as they were labeled).  We stood there wondering where Thor was and suddenly I realized we were actually shut in this tiny room.  That the door had been closed behind us.  Hmmmmm…..what the heck?   We all stood there, confused, looking at each other with might have been a little panic on mine and Pocket Fiance’s faces.

Suddenly, there was a voice above us.  A loud, booming voice stating he was Thor’s father Odin and that we were being taken to Asgard via the BiFrost (the bridge that connects our two planets).  I didn’t sign up for that.  I only signed up for a picture with Thor.  Interplanetary travel was not in the program.  We all started giggling (mine might have been nervous laughter) and Bubby might have said “What the hell Disney?” and then it happened.  Above us, what appeared as gas came out of the ceiling (I now know it was fog)and surrounded us with a loud hissing sound.  At this point, I was convinced we were in a Disney Gas Chamber and we were going to die.  I started to freak out just a bit.  Now let me explain something….sometimes when I freak out, I do this weird very sharp movement with my head that is almost bird like as I look around.  This is what I started doing as I was looking for an escape hatch to what I was sure was going to be my death in Disneyland.  I didn’t want to die trying to meet Thor and end up stuck as one of the dolls in the It’s a Small World ride singing that irritating song for eternity.  What type of living Hell would that be?  A horrible outcome I was sure was about to happen as I frantically looked above me in that robotic, bird like motion and tried not to inhale the Disney gas that was coming down around us.  Of course, that only induced a coughing fit which made BFF concerned my asthma was going to kick in and kill me.  I thought I really might get killed by this gas or my asthma would flare up so bad I couldn’t handle whatever was going on.  My slight freak out caused my future sister in law to burst into laughter as she also exclaimed “Are we being gassed?”  while I said “I think this might be a gas chamber” softly to my Bubby, who also burst into laughter.

As the gas/fog cleared, I looked up and standing before us in a large room that wasn’t there before (what kind of sorcery was this?  Disney magic?), with his arms up in the air, hammer in one of them was Thor.  His booming voice invited us into meet him and I stood there wondering if I was hallucinating from the gas.  It was the best experience I have ever had meeting a character at Disneyland.  Pocket Fiance is still giggling and BFF is shaking her head at me as we filed in to meet Thor. He even picked someone from the  group of people we were with to try and lift his hammer.  We got our pictures taken with Thor and left, finding ourselves still in the same building we were in before. I might have been a little sad we didn’t actually travel to Asgard, but I was grateful I did not end up as a creepy doll in It’s A Small World ride.  I would have been put back in the corner where Ireland has one doll and a leprechaun and been forced to sing that song out of my weird mechanical mouth.  As we left, I stated to everyone that I really did think that we were being gassed at one point and Pocket Fiance started laughing hysterically.  She said when she saw me freaking out that one thought went through her head:  “And on that day,  I learned my sister in law was a robot.”  This made all of us laugh even more hysterically because I can only imagine what I looked like to everyone else in that room/gas chamber.  Like a robot.

The mighty Thor!

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did however take a trip to Asgard to meet Thor, in which I really thought we were trapped in Disney gas chamber, but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl who is NOT a robot despite what Pocket Fiance thinks Running.  The experiment continues….

I Believe I Can Fly and SURPRISE!!

Sometimes you discover new things about yourself through an event in your life.  It can be a minor event or a major one, or it can be a brief moment in time.  This is what happened to me when we went to Disneyland this past weekend for our annual We Hate Football So Who Cares About the Superbowl Trip.  In one fleeting moment, I discovered I was a superhero and could fly.

This trip was with Bubby and Pocket Fiance because of all the Star Wars: Seasons of the Force special stuff Disneyland has going on right now, so four little Geeks decided to make sure we got to see all the Star Wars things that were going on.  This included a special exhibit over in one of the buildings that contained props, movie clips, merchandise, and even photos with two characters from the movie.  We were super excited.  We could have spent a long time in this exhibit.  But one thing stopped us…the fullness of our bladders.  In the middle of meeting characters and looking at all things geeky, the girls all had to use the restroom.  So we went out to find the closest one to where we were located.  As we left the building, we had a conversation:

Me:  “Where is the nearest restroom anyways?”

BFF:  “I think by Space Mountain.  We are gonna have to sprint because I have to pee that bad.”

Disney Cast Member:  “Are you looking for the closest restroom?”

BFF:  “Yeah…by Space Mountain is the closest one.”

Disney Cast Member:  “You would be wrong.  There is one right around the corner.”

BFF:  “It’s like a secret restroom!  Score!” (she might have done a little dance or was just trying not to pee her pants)

As we walked down the steps to turn the corner, I stepped to avoid an older couple coming up the stairs.  As I did so, somehow, my right foot rolled underneath me.  And not just turned wrong.  It felt as though it turned completely backward and upside down.  I was waiting to hear a crack as I stumbled and tried to stay upright.  The pavement was coming straight for my head and all I could think was that I was going to face plant on the cement stairs and tumble down them, thereby ending our vacation as I would have suffered a severe head injury and broken bones.  I grabbed the banister as I flew through the air, did a pirouette type move, and might have remained airborne for a few moments.  I also might have thought “I CAN fly!” as I stumbled and tried to stay upright.  I heard Pocket Fiance gasp and say “OH NO!” and I heard BFF sharply intake her breath.  I stumbled through the air and down the stairs and somehow, I landed on both feet, a few stair steps down from where I started.  I turned and looked up at Pocket Fiance and BFF and saw the horror on their faces and the Cast Member starting towards me, so I looked down and saw my foot was still attached to my leg and was turned the correct way.  Whew.  It was still attached.  That would have been so gross if my foot was not attached to my body anymore or turned the wrong way like I had thought.  That would have put a damper on our vacation and might have turned Disneyland’s Star Wars exhibit into a real bloody battlefield.  Pretty sure I might have given the Cast Member who witnessed my flight a heart attack as well.  That would have been a mountain of paperwork for her.

I quickly tested out the ankle and even though it hurt, I was able to walk.   I have never seen people rush towards me so fast ever, as I was walking gingerly on my ankle towards the secret restroom. BFF and Pocket Fiance got on either side of me and BFF checked me out with her nursing skills.  She agreed my foot was still attached and she could not believe it.  I guess from where they were located behind me, it really did look like I flew through the air.  BFF told me she she actually thought I had broken not only my ankle, but also my leg and wanted to know how the hell I was still walking.  I had no idea.  I should have broken at least my ankle.  I should have fallen head first down cement stairs and gotten a head injury.  Instead, I was able to walk to the restroom…thank goodness.  My ankle was slightly tender the rest of the day, but strangely enough, there was no swelling or bruising.  Huh.  I guess I did fly for a few moments.  Also, all my classical ballet training must have come in handy.  Yippee for flexible joints!

One last thing….I met with Boss Bean while I was there and guess what?  Son of Sofa comes out on Sunday!!!  SURPRISE!!  Yes!  Valentine’s Day!  The perfect gift for that person in your life or you tell your sweetie that it will be here just in time!  No joke… it will finally be here for you all to read to your heart’s content.  I super hope all my readers love it and share the love.  Boss Bean told BFF and I that people were emailing her asking about when it is going to release and that also thrills me to no end.  This mean you all are just as excited as myself.  Feel free to download and share the graphic with everyone you know.  And feel free to share with me when you get your copy!  Post photos on my Facebook page or tag me on Instagram and Twitter!  I want to see you with my book!!  Whoot Whoot!

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  Instead, I discovered that I could fly and that I am super glad I was a ballerina in a past life but I didn’t die (or break anything either).  I am Fat Girl believing I can fly with a book coming out on Sunday Running.  The experiment continues….

 

Coming Soon….

Ever put so much work into something that when you are done, you feel a sense of relief?  That is how I felt when I turned in my latest manuscript into Boss Bean.  And not the rough draft, but the final draft.  There is something so satisfying when you finish up a project you have worked so hard on.  I know it must seem so easy.  Just copy and paste my old blogs into a word document and BOOM!  Book done.  Unfortunately, that is no how it works.  I wish it was, but nope.  Let me give you a little glimpse of how it really works.

Yes, I do some copy and pasting of my old blogs to a word document.  But that is not all of it.  I also write originals for the books, the tips, and I have to re-read and perfect the blog posts I already wrote.  This takes quite a bit of time and I even start hating every single word I have written.  Once I have everything written, I then send it off to Boss Bean, who sends it off to my editor.  This is where it got different for me this time.  I have a new editor and he is amazeballs!  First off, he does not normally read my stuff, so he was the perfect person to edit it all.  Second, he is British.  Which, proved to be somewhat challenging in itself.  Why?  Because he did not always understand all of my cultural references, or Americana, as he called it.  Hmmmm.  I guess I never thought about the fact that my readers across the pond might not understand everything I talk about.  After the manuscript gets turned into your editor, you wait.  Waiting is the hardest part.

And then…the email appeared.  Let me tell you something about editors.  Editors are like teachers.  Imagine turning in to your teacher a paper you have written, that you have worked on for a long time, slaved over even, and thinking it was the bomb paper.  Then, you get the paper back from the teacher and it looks like a murder scene has taken place on the paper, there is so much red pen everywhere.  I mean, did you even write a paper?  This is what it is like for an author every time you get your first draft back from your editor.  Want to know what that feels like?  It feels like crap.  Total crap.  You sit there, looking at all the comments in the margins, all the red marks throughout your writing, and you feel like total crap.  You might even want to give up at this point.  I know I did.  But instead, I read the corrections, I made some, chose to ignore others, and took the time to explain the Americana references.  One thing my editor really did for me which I am super glad for:  he made my grammar so much better!  I feel like a super duper smarty pants now that I speak good.   Also, I apparently use the term “for reals” a lot. For reals.

The next step is the most exciting,  My editor formatted the new book and changed it up!  You guys, I have to tell you how excited I am about this book.  It looks different, it feels different, and it will appeal to a lot more people who might not have discovered me.  I cannot wait to see it in my hands.  I have seen the proofs but to see it in print is a whole different monster.  I am more proud of this book than the others because it really is better.  My writing is better and my grammar is quite British….just kidding.  I hope you guys like it as much as I do.  In the mean time, I shall tease you with this cute graphic that the author Sara Ney made for me (it pays to have other author friends).  Feel free to share this around!

Oh yeah. I didn’t die today.  I did however show you how painful of a process writing a book can be, but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl with a British editor who made me speak gooder Running.  The experiment continues….

 

The Case of the Missing Glasses

If you have seen pictures of me, then you are aware that I wear glasses because I can’t see right.  I have trouble seeing things far away but not near, so when I do things like read, I tend to take them off.  Otherwise, I end up just looking over or under them to do so.  I also like to wear my glasses because they can be a fun fashion accessory.  The other thing about me that you might not know is that I am super forgetful.  Not about important things, but small things yes.  Like what to pick up at the store, to call someone back or answer an email.  Now, put these two things together and you will get the incident that happened the other night before work.

I was busy getting ready for work and texting BFF at the same time so that we could discuss what type of coffee I was picking us up at Starbucks (venti vanilla soy flat white btw).  I finished putting on my makeup and fixing my hair and went to go prep some snacks for work when I realized my glasses weren’t on.  So I went back to the bathroom to get them.  Hmmm.  Not there.  I searched all over the bathroom counter and could not find them.  I saw my extra pair sitting by my bed, but not the pair I had just been wearing.  I went out to the living room and looked on the coffee table thinking I had left them there.  Nope.  No glasses.  I texted BFF in confusion:

Me:  “I can’t find my glasses.  Like anywhere. How strange.”

BFF:  “Are they on your face?  Your head?”

Me:  “Hahaha.  Very funny.  No.  I took them off to do my makeup and hair and now can’t find them.” (I am now overturning couch cushions in hopes they slipped down there).

BFF:  “You checked the bathroom and the coffee table?  Do you have an extra pair?”

Me:  “Yup.  I am so confused. How do I lose a pair of glasses in my own house?”  (I put on my other pair because I need to finish getting ready for work after frantically searching the bathroom again).

BFF:  “I blame Ninja!  A ghost?”

Me:  “Great.  Now I have a ghost to worry about in my house.  Why do you say such things?”

BFF:  “Because it is fun!  I still say Ninja took them.”

Me:  “Seriously.  How can I lose a pair of glasses I just took off?  They were just on my face.”

BFF:  “THE GHOST!!!”

I have now gone into the kitchen to finish prepping snacks for work.  I opened the fridge to get the makings of a sammie.  There on the shelf in the fridge are the glasses. Ummm. What?  The fridge?  Why the heck are they there?  or better yet, how did they get there?

Me:  “OMG.  I found them.  They were in the fridge.  WTH?  I don’t even remember going to the fridge.  What am I doing?”

BFF:  “Can Ninja open the fridge?  This is hysterical by the way.”

Me:  “This is a blog.”

BFF:  “Yes. Yes it is you dork.”

Yup.  I really am a dork.  I have no idea how those glasses got in the fridge, why I would have put them there, or if Ninja can really open the fridge door.  This shall remain a mystery.  This is also why I keep a spare pair of glasses lying around.  Maybe I do have a ghost in my house.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I still am trying to figure out the case of the missing glasses, but I didn’t die.  I am a forgetful Fat Girl who apparently puts her glasses in the fridge or has the world’s smartest cat around Running.  The experiment continues….

Let the Battle Begin!

This week Flagstaff got it’s first big snow…for those of you who are not aware, I live in the mountains of Arizona and yes it does snow here.  In fact, we are currently leading the country in snowfall with 30 inches that fell this week.  I am not a fan of this much snow at once.  It requires a lot of shoveling and hazardous driving conditions since there always seems to be people on the road that do not know how to drive in it.  But let’s talk about the real reason I hate the snow….the snow plow guy.  This guy and I have had nameless battles over the snow he plows in front of my freshly cleared driveway.  So with this 30 inches of snow, the battle began afresh this year.  With one new addition….my new snowblower.

When the snow fell the first day, I was at work late due to a meeting so I actually didn’t get home until almost noon to a foot and a half that needed to be cleared out of my driveway.  A little disheartening when you just want to go to bed to say the least.  Now, mind you, I did have a small snowblower that I have abused for many years.  It took me an hour and a half to clear the snow because it was so deep and my blower was so small.  At this point, I was thinking I might as well have shoveled because it took me so long.  Not once, this first day did I see the snow plow guy come by…like at all.  Our streets were a mess.  I could not have gone anywhere if I had wanted to because they were so nasty and dangerous.  The second morning I got up and proceeded to clear the next foot and a half that was on my driveway.  First, I had to shovel the large giant ice boulders that were at the end of it, courtesy of the snow plow guy that had FINALLY come by.  As I was clearing my driveway, all I could smell was gas.  And a lot of it.  I couldn’t figure out why.  I thought maybe I had spilled some when I filled up the tank so I finished and went inside to take a shower to warm up.  I came back out to the garage later and smelled the over powering smell of gasoline.  I checked the puddle under my blower, hoping it was just snow.  Nope. It was gas.  Leaking all over my garage floor.  I quickly moved the snowblower outside and put it in the snow to confirm my suspicions.  Yup.  Gas.  Ugh….I had repaired this blower at least 4-5 times for the same issue and the thought of having it repaired again when we were due to get more snow about sent me over the edge.

I did not want to shovel.  At all.  I also did not want to deal with the gas leaking blower.  At all.  Luckily, my Bubby happened to call me about a package at my house for him to ask about the roads and I lamented over my leaking snowblower.  He suggested we go buy a new one and he would take me (seriously I have the BEST Bubby ever) since the roads sucked (and no snow plow guy all day in my hood.  We went over to the closest Home Depot to discover not only were they almost sold out, but they also wanted about $700 for a new one.  Nope.  Not happening.  Bubby was willing to drive me over to the other side of town to Cal-Ranch to see if they had any.  I was game as it was already snowing again so we slowly made our way over there.  They had some sitting right in the foyer and they were on sale!  The one my Bubby picked out for me is not only bigger than my old one, but I quickly discovered it was a beast!  We got it home (another reason I was glad Bubby went with me) and he got is started up for me.  We decided to see how it would do against the piles of snow at the end of my driveway sine the snow plow guy had finally been by (do they only plow my hood at night?  I mean really?) It took him no time at all to walk with this beast of a blower down to the end of the drive clearing the 2 inches that had already fallen.  He got to the end and in no time flat, had cleared the piles down to the asphalt.  Better than the snow plow guy clears the street that is for damn sure.  Never have I been more crazy excited about a piece of machinery.  I quickly cleared my driveway (including the burum at the end) within ten minutes and disposed of the old blower to the backyard where it could leak gas all over the snow there.

I stood there afterwards and looked out on my driveway.  Bring it snow plow guy.  Bring it.  This battle of the burums shall not end well for you my non clearing street friend.  Oh yeah.  Bring it.  Also…I took some selfies with my new snowblower cuz I am that crazy excited about it.  I know…I am a weirdo.  I don’t even think I need captions for these cuz who takes a selfie with their new snowblower?  THIS GAL!

 

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did however purchase a bad ass snowblower that will win the battle of the burums this year so bring it snow plow guy but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl who apparently takes selfies with her new snowblower Running.  The experiment continues…

Why BFF and I Do Not Like to People

At the beginning of December, BFF and I decided to try something new…you see Phoenix Comicon had started doing a FanFest last December and our inner geeks were dying to go and get our geek on so we went.  I would say this was like Comicon Lite….a smaller version of the main event in June but with a smaller venue, fewer guests and such.  It is even held at a completely different place than the main one.  We were pretty stoked though, as December means BBC isn’t filming and so this means a lot of BBC stars were going to be at FanFest.  We were most excited about two in particular:  for BFF it was Gareth David-Lloyd (Ianto from Torchwood) and for myself it was Karen Gillian (Amy Pond from Doctor Who).  So, reservations were made, photo ops purchased and the planning began.  You all know how BFF and I hate to people but really we hate to people in large crowds and any type of event like this was sure to bring people and not just any people…Comicon people.  Let’s be honest….you have read before about the strange people we meet at Comicon and this was no exception.  One such incident really stressed why BFF and I do not like to people in this case.

Since this was a smaller event, the main panels were in a largish room, but not as huge as the ballrooms at the convention center.  We discovered that this meant not as many people in the panels and you could basically get pretty close to the front without having to wait through the entire day, which I must admit was kind of nice.  We had decided to go to a film screening the first day that Gareth David-Lloyd was starring in and hosting the panel afterwards.  We had arrived early during another panel (per usual and before we realized we probably didn’t have to do so) and moved up when that panel was over to the 3rd row to get a get view of the screen and of course Gareth himself during the panel.  You have to understand something here…BFF is obsessed with Ianto Jones.  About as much as she is obsessed with Barrowman.  Like legit obsessed.  I was afraid she would lick him or something during our photo op but luckily she contained herself and just squealed and jumped up and down afterwards (it was pretty adorable).  So there we were, minding our own business, waiting the 30 minutes before the film screening to start when the incident happened.

BFF was crocheting Stormtroopers to give to her family for Christmas and I was messing around on Facebook and Snapchat (follow me there for funny stuff  ——> ladymiryaa).  No really, BFF was crocheting Stormtroopers.  Except for they didn’t have arms so they looked….well….like a penis.  No joke, BFF turned to me and asked me what it looked like and without hesitation, I answered “A Dicktrooper”….hence they became known as Dicktroopers till they got their arms attached.  No joke.  Judge for yourself.

Admit it…it looks like a penis.  #dicktrooper

Like I said, we were minding our own business, when a lady came up and asked if the seats next to us were taken.  We were the only ones in the entire row.  Do we look like we have that many friends?  Nope.  Seats aren’t taken.  Much to BFF’s chagrin, Strange Lady sits right NEXT to her…no comfort chair between them…and let’s just say she is not a small lady.  She practically sat ON BFF.  I looked around to see if there were other seats this Strange Lady could have taken…pretty sure most of the room was empty.  Unfortunately for BFF, this Strange Lady was a talker.  Like a she won’t shut up no matter how much you ignore her or have RBF talker.  I actually leaned over to BFF at one point and asked her if she wanted to switch seats but she said no.  She should have taken me up on it.  BFF has since stated that she is the Wife of the Mayor of Poopsville (remember him??)  and I believe her.  Poor BFF.  She was forced to make small talk with the Wife of the Mayor of Poopsville even though she didn’t want to people right then.  At all.  She was soon spared more chitter chatter when the film started and she shut the fuck up.

After the film was over, Gareth David-Lloyd and the guys who made the film held a panel where people could ask questions and they could talk about the film.  It was awesome.  So if you ever get a chance to see the movie I Am Alone, do it.  You won’t regret it. let me tell you something about BFF and I when it comes to panels at a Comicon event.  There is NO WAY IN HELL we are going to get up and ask as question.  Ummm…nope.  Hard pass.  We just enjoy listening to the questions others as and the answers the panelists give.  Our introvertness would never allow us to get up and do something like that in public.  So we sat, listened and endured the Wife of the Mayor of Poopsville, who by the way, had finally moved over enough to where she was not sitting on top of BFF.  The panel ended and the moderator told all those that had asked a question to come up and see him (remember way smaller group of people).  We packed up our stuff quickly and tried to get the hell away from the Wife of the Mayor of Poopsville.  As we were walking out, we heard her say “Nurse?  Oh Nurse? Excuse me Nurse?” (at some point BFF had said she was a nurse to her) and I think we both groaned out loud.   We turned around to see her frantically trying to catch up with us and as she did she asked us the most bizarre question.  The conversation went something like this:

WotMP:  “When you go up to get your prize for asking a question, can I have it?”

BFF (with severe RBF and super annoyed now):  “I didn’t ask a question.”

WotMP (confusion on her face):  “Yes you did.  And the moderator said you should go up and get something.  Can I have whatever you get?”

BFF (Murderface has now replaced RBF and she might punch this lady in the vagina):  “I did not ask a question.” (mind you we are still walking at this point) followed quickly by me stating: “No she didn’t.”

WotMP (even more confused and adamant): “Yes you did!”

Me (now I am pissed and want to punch her in the throat and the vagina):  “No she didn’t.  And she never would. So go away.”

At this point we were able to walk away from WotMP and out of the room and looked at each other incredulously.  First off, who the fuck are you to ask us if you can have whatever swag or photo or whatever was being given out for asking questions in a small panel?  We don’t know you.  Neither one of us asked a question.  Not once.  We might have drooled over Gareth but NEVER would we have asked a question.  Secondly, don’t you think we are fans too?  We would probably want whatever was being given to us for asking a question so why the fuck would we give it to you?  Go away.  We are not friends.  And lastly…who the fuck do you think you are?  Rude.  Can you not tell we don’t like to people?  OMG….you cannot sit with us.  Period.  Rude.

You can’t sit with us.  For reals.  Go away WotMP.

This is exactly why BFF and I don’t like to people at events.  Unless we know you.  Nope.  Because of weird rude experiences like this one.  Guess we need to practice our #murderfaces instead like someone else we know (BS girls you know who I am talking about!).  Seriously we don’t like to people.  Despite the WofMP, the day was not a waste because this happened and BFF’s smile says it all:

Ianto!  He even said “I will be the filling in your sandwich any day!”  Swoon.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did however discover that there is a new level to the weird and rude people you can meet at events like Fanfest which almost made me punch someone in the throat and vagina but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl working on my #murderface and meeting Ianto Running.  The experiment continues…