She/I Can’t Be Tamed

May 21, 2012

This will be quick.

I’m giving up wine…err…booze. Not tonight. Tomorrow actually. And not forever. Just long enough to fit into Neda Iranpour’s tiny gold shorts (to be clear, I’ll purchase my own pair, I don’t expect her to share her bootie bling). She promised me a high res photo of her wearing said shorts later this evening. I promise I will share the photo and tales of Neda’s abuse (I assume you don’t fit into shorts like these unless you suffer in some way or other).

If I try to scratch your eyes out and/or seriously snap at you sometime over the next few months. It’s Neda’s fault. It’s also my birthday present to myself. So cut me some slack. And if you’re lucky enough to catch me on one of my cheat days…BRACE YOURSELF. No matter what Neda says, I’m giving myself 8 cheat days between tomorrow and the day I was born (that’s like 2-3 per month, for the next 3.5 months).

I’m also building an army. A healthy (and arguably annoying) army of individuals that makes me feel bad when I try to eat macaroni and cheese instead of what Neda tells me to eat. This army consists of one seriously sick/fit neighbor who is awfully bossy when it comes to working out. She’s wonderful AND ridiculous. I just told her that via text so I feel like it’s ok to make it public via the blog. It also includes a v-neck wearing cross between Batman and Derek Zoolander. He’s on his own planet. And I feel like he’s honest enough to tell me if I’m too soft to visit. And then there’s a sparkly spin instructor. She made me throw up once. She’ll probably make me throw up again tomorrow (I agreed to spin with her and the sick/fit neighbor). And she loves brown rice. She’s obviously demented. I have a lovely juicer (she’s also a massage therapist) on hand, in case I freak out (highly likely) and decide to stray from solid foods at some point. I also have a mouthy Puerto Rican Zumba instructor in my midst. But I’m not so sure about her. She’s so sassy. And I’m going to be so hostile. Perhaps I should go the yoga/pilates route instead. Last but not definitely not least, there’s Sandra Augustin. I haven’t even asked her to join the army yet. I just think about the times we’ve worked out together (I know that’s hard to believe). If all else fails, I know I can (and should) pull this firecracker out of my back pocket. She’s truly terrifying. On so many levels. Here’s proof…

Sandra Augustin competing in red tank top, posing on one arm like G.I. Jane

If these hardly-any-body-fat-having Avengers can’t get me Rehab (Las Vegas) ready, I might as well be Billy Cyrus’ daughter…which brings me to my next point…

I really need to talk to somebody about Miley’s Billboard Music Awards blazer-dress-no bra-probably no panties-pretty cute shoes-really liked her hair-is this real life-isn’t she like 14 years old-I’m still so pissed that she’s dating my Hunger Games boyfriend-ensemble. Wow. Not gonna lie. I sort of wish I wore daddy issues that well. I’m as demented as the sparkly spin instructor. I know.

Miley Cyrus at the 2012 Billboard Music Awards in an ivory blazer

 

 

{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }

Lori May 22, 2012 at 8:37 pm

I want to commend you for taking this step. It is overwhelming & terrifying. And you literally cannot fathom how much time you will spend thinking about EVERY SINGLE THING you put in your face. But those gold shorts will be so worth it Mami.

As I AM the aforementioned “mouthy Puerto Rican Zumba instructor” all I have to add at this point is – YOU GOT THIS.

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Natalie May 23, 2012 at 11:12 pm

I just want you to know that, if I ever get into the gold shorts, I’m never taking them off. Get excited. Biatch.

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Drew May 23, 2012 at 3:49 pm

Never thought I could be summed up in two sentences. And then this happened.

“It also includes a v-neck wearing cross between Batman and Derek Zoolander. He’s on his own planet. And I feel like he’s honest enough to tell me if I’m too soft to visit. ”

I love it

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Natalie May 23, 2012 at 11:11 pm

It wasn’t easy to sum you up in two sentences Drew. I had so much more to say. Alas, I think this was a good start.

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