A Bit of Reality… ‘Aint Never Hurt Nobody

25 Mar 2015 Leave a comment

by CoJo in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Me:  “I think I’m going to sell my SUV and get a Prius…”

[as i look across the couch to see his facial expression]

———————-

[he doesn’t look up from his laptop; his facial expression doesn’t change]

Ginge:  “I think we should start seeing other people…”

I just smirk.  I would never sell my SUV to buy a Prius unless absolutely necessary.  Not that I have anything against Prius’ (or Priuses?) in general, but they’re really just not my cup of tea to drive.   I just knew the suggestion would ruffle Ginge’s feathers, as it did.   Yet, he knew I was joking with my random comment.

What this got me thinking about, however, was, what if Ginge were to say to me truthfully and genuinely, “I think we should start seeing other people?”

I mean this comment stemmed from the jokiest of jokes, but it brought to my attention that in the past 14 months, this thought has never crossed my mind.  Am I naive?  Am I egotistical?  What the HECK am I?  I thought back to the time when I just met Ginge.  We had only gone on two, maybe three dates, and T-Diddy [mom] was asking about him over the phone.  I remember telling her:

“It’s weird.  I don’t have to guess about him.  He always calls, he always texts, he always follows through with plans… I don’t even have to wonder with him…”

What the HECK game did he play?  Well apparently a freakin’ good one.  He played the game in which you are an actual genuine person who says and does what he says he’s going to do, and treats a woman like she’s actually a human being.  I mean, really?  It’s not that hard.  But sadly, it’s out of the ordinary, and this is something I commented to T-Diddy.   She, of course, gave me her wonderful motherly advice, that I SHOULDN’T have to wonder and I SHOULDN’T ever worry if he’s going to call me again.

Which brings me to my current point.  At over a year I have NEVER wondered or worried about if Ginge was going to call again, or if he didn’t like me anymore.  He’s always made me feel like I’ve had him and I’ll never lose him.  But this one comment really got me thinking more than I usually do [I guess I don’t think that much?]… Have I made him feel similarly?

I feel like I’ve been screwed over so many freakin’ times over the past several years, that it’s been all about me… “does he like me?”  “is he treating me correctly?”  “is he making ME his number ONE priority?”  “does he love my family?”  “can he live without me?”  …blah blah blah… me, me, ME….

What about HIM?  Let’s not get me wrong… I’ve come to really love this guy to death.  But that silly comment just put this thought in my head…. what if he were to want to leave ME? [I mean who really would want to leave me?? But still…]   HELLO!!!! Get off your high horse, you ASS!  This is a two-way street!!    How have I never even considered that this wonderful, kind, handsome, completely fantastic man could ever do better?  [Well, better…?  No, he couldn’t…]  But my point being… I knew those silly words that came out of his mouth, “I think we should start seeing other people,” were completely nonsense, and joking around, but they really hit home.

If I had heard those words out of his mouth in truth, I’m not sure what I would do.  I know I’d probably be in shock… because apparently over the past 14 months, I’ve felt the most secure I’ve ever felt in a relationship before.  I guess all I can say here is that maybe i learned a bit about myself.   I’ve learned that I hope I’m doing all I can to make my man feel just as secure as I do.  And if I’m not, I sure as hell need to do a better job.  Thanks, Ginge… for being you.

‘Til we meet again… hopefully less than 3 months from now….

xoxo

Gossip Girl

Less…Than…Three…Pounds

27 May 2014 1 Comment

by CoJo in fun, life Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

T comes home from work one day and says, “My trainer put together a cleanse I’m going to do next week.  V wants to do it to.”

“Okay.  I’m in.”

5-day cleanse… how hard could it be, right?

The cleanse consisted of a strange combination of foods that were to be eaten in the same order each day.  These foods consisted of things like canned tuna, pears, oranges, unseasoned baked meat, plain baked veggies, hard-boiled egg whites, an entire cucumber, balsamic vinegar, and plain organic chicken broth.  You also had to drink a gallon and a half of water per day, and drink absolutely no alcohol or coffee.

On Sunday, before the cleanse started, I told Ginge I had to go to the grocery store to prepare.  When he asked what we were doing and I explained the cleanse, he decided he wanted to do it with us too… In retrospect, I never should have let him in on it.

Our refrigerator was packed to the gills with Tupperware upon Tupperware of cut-up, prepared food to take to work with us.  I have never spent so much time planning my meals, and that part on its own was exhausting.  Also, who would have thought Ginge would turn into a Cleanse Nazi??

At one point on day two, I’m sitting there minding my own business, nibbling on my hard-boiled egg whites when Ginge looks over and goes “No!”

“What???”

He peeks into my bowl and says, “Oh, I thought you were eating part of the yolk.”

O….M….G………

I’m cranky when I’m hungry.  I’m also cranky on the same several days each month.  This month, those cranky days aligned with me also being constantly hungry, and I may have turned into the Tazmanian Devil.  There was an exercise program that was supposed to go along with this cleanse, but Ginge and I decided to start the Insanity program instead.  So here we are, the four of us sipping on chicken broth, whining all day over group text about how hungry we are, and then sweating our asses off in the driveway (or at the gym), waiting to be skinny.

You’d think 5 days wouldn’t be a hard task.  But when Tuesday comes around and you have your weekly softball game with no beers, it all-of-the-sudden becomes a problem.  When your team goes to the bar to celebrate a victory, and you go straight home instead to eat some plain baked asparagus…really, that’s a little depressing.

Mid-week, T texts and asks if we have any questions about the cleanse that she should ask her trainer.  I fired off several:

-Are we supposed to be pooping?

-How come I’m not pooping?

-Why is this called a cleanse and not a diet?

-What’s the reasoning behind the combinations of foods at each meal?

V didn’t have any questions, just one comment:  “Tell your trainer she sucks.”

If we thought Monday through Thursday was bad… we were in for a rude awakening on Friday.  V had already caved on day three when she was offered a free sandwich at work, but T was mainly on track, save a cheat or two (or four) for things like Hershey kisses.  Ginge and I were following the cleanse perfectly… [while moaning and complaining the entire time].  Friday night its time for our last meal of the day.  We had perfectly saved 4 ounces of chicken each, for the final cleanse meal.  It was about 8:30 and we were starving.  V had just made pasta, and the delicious smell of it in the kitchen lit a rage inside of me.  I left the house to go grab some supplies for the next day, while leaving Ginge to put the four strips of plain chicken in the oven.  I figured that was an easy enough task.

Five minutes later I get a picture text…. it was a baking sheet with THREE strips of chicken on it, with the message, “Guess who helped himself to two ounces of chicken?”

I wanted to murder somebody.  I leave him alone with our precious protein and a 5-month-old puppy for five minutes, and next I’m going to be left to starve to death.  Going to get more chicken was going to delay my shoving my pie-hole with food, and that did not make me happy.  The dog, on the other hand, was in his glory for the rest of the evening.

We did it.  We finished out the 5-day cleanse, and 5 days of Insanity.  I didn’t really feel much skinnier, or cleansed… I actually felt bloated and full of poop, but I figured the amount of crankiness it caused had to be equivalent to weight loss.  I set an early alarm Saturday morning to get a last workout in before a day and a weekend filled with wine tasting and other indulgent activities.  Before meeting Ginge out on the driveway with a laptop and yoga mats, I went into the bathroom to weigh myself.

Less….than….three….pounds.

I lost less than three pounds.  Five days of an 800 calorie diet, no alcohol, and Insanity workouts, and I lost an amount that I could have pooped out in one sitting.  I tried to compose myself, but I was mad.

I went outside.  Ginge was waiting for me.

“I’m in a really bad mood.”

“Why?”

“I lost less than 3-pounds.”

He made some comments about well, at least I lost something!!!  [not helping].  We started the workout.  We’re doing the jogging in place, starting the awful warmups and V walks up to the front porch, just returning home from the gym, and says hello.  I continue my jogging and say, “I lost less than 3 pounds all week.”

“Ugh…. really?  That sucks.”

Ginge, jogging away chimes in, “I only lost 11 pounds.”

I stopped jogging.  Tears started flowing.  Ginge looks at me, and says, “Are you crying??”

I nodded.  I felt so defeated.  He came over and hugged me.  V offered me some pretty good words of encouragement;  but the only ones that really helped were when she said, “Want me to make you some coffee??”

Oh coffee, how I’ve missed you.  I could kiss her right now.

My sister was on her way over, so I figured I should pre-warn her about the crying to divert any rude fat comments that were bound to happen (isn’t that what sisters do… call each other fat)?   It’s nicer to warn someone about the things you will probably cry about, before they say them and then have to deal with your crying.

“Just warning you I lost less than three pounds all week and I cried.  Like actual tears.”

“Don’t cry, little baby.  That’s just because your muscles ate up all of the fat…and muscle weighs more than fat!”

That gave me a good laugh all on its own.

What have  I learned this week?  T’s trainer sucks.  I also learned that I could eat a perfectly healthy, well portioned, whole foods diet, not go to happy hour, do intense workouts and drink 5 million gallons of water for 5 days, and lose the same amount of weight as if I were to just take a laxative at the end of the week.

Go suck a fat one, cleanse.  Bring on the wine and french fries.

xoxo

Gossip Girl

 

 

 

 

 

A Puppy and Unemployment

30 Apr 2014 1 Comment

by CoJo in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Worst.blogger.ever.

My blonde cousins were in town last week.  On her last night, as we’re sitting at a Miller’s Field with some beers, Samantha says, “Why haven’t you blogged in a while?”

I think about it, look at the guy sitting to my left, and respond, “I don’t know.  Ginge is pretty boring.  I don’t know what I’d write about.”

Ginge shoves a handful of nachos in his mouth and says, “See how boring I am once I push you out of an airplane.”

Truth is, my life hasn’t really been boring lately.  I suppose based on blog feedback, I felt people are mostly interested in hearing tales of my awful dating life and the momo’s I come across.  Keeping Ginge around has eliminated these tales, because he has been pretty far from awful.

Since my last post, a few life events have occurred…  In this order:

1.  I got a puppy

2.  I lost my job

3.  I got a new job

 

The Puppy:  Oliver Twist ‘n Shout:

Yeah yeah… I know… I’ve done this before.   I’ve gotten a puppy:  [The Story of Prince Harry].  But that time was different.  I wasn’t ready.  I hadn’t thought it through.  But after I returned Prince Harry to the pet shop on that cold March day, over two years ago, I continued to think about him.  When I spoke of him, I would tell people, “I won’t get another puppy until I get a boyfriend.”  I decided boyfriends were probably good for things like training puppies and picking up poop.  It turns out I was right.  They are good at that kinda thing.  I know this because I bagged a boyfriend, and then shortly after, bought a Goldendoodle.  SCORE!!!!

Before I paid for the puppy I told Ginge, “I’m going to make you sign a contract stating that you won’t break up with me until after the puppy is fully trained.”

He agreed.  My roommates wondered what he must think of me to request such a thing.

So there we have it.  I had a puppy.   I present to you, Oliver Twist ‘n Shout… Oliver Twist for short, Oliver for shorter, and Ollie, used most frequently, for those who love him.

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There’s no denying how stinkin’ adorable this puppy is.  But, I’ve never raised a puppy before.  I never even had a dog growing up.  I have no idea what I’m doing.  I was prepared for the puppy to bite and try to eat things that aren’t edible.  I had pulled a couple of thongs (the underwear version) out of his mouth when I realized it was something he enjoyed chewing on.  But I was not aware that this puppy was dumb enough to actually swallow a thong.  The first time I realized that he was, in fact, dumb enough to swallow a thong is when I watched it get pushed out and hang from his butt… in public…. in front of people… at CVS.

I’m standing at the pharmacy when the poop starts coming.  Big ones.  On the floor.  He has never done something like this before.  Not knowing what to do, I start dragging him across the floor, with poop still coming from his butt, creating a trail across the carpeted floor.  I’m whispering:  “STOP!” hoping no one will notice, but knowing the stench has already taken over half the building.  Then a customer sees whats happening, and exclaims in horror:  “I think he ate something!”

I look, and sure enough… there it was… a pink lacy thong, hanging from his butt covered in poop.  I didn’t know what to do.  I was mortified.  I ran him out of there.  I stood outside for a few minutes, staring at the poop covered thong.  Knowing there was more inside where that came from… and knowing everyone had seen what just happened.  I didn’t have an option.  I went back in.   Dog leash in one hand, plastic bags and paper towels in the other, I got to work picking up the crap that was strewn about the store.

An extremely observant customer suggests, “I think he ate something that didn’t agree with him.”

“Yeah, he ate a pair of my underwear.”

He looks astonished, “Oh….. [pause]….. yeah, that wouldn’t agree with him.”

I walked out of that CVS with my tail between my legs [ba-dum-CHING], with zero intentions of ever returning.  After Oliver passed the thong, he was happy as a clam and ready for more shopping.  I was not.

This adorable little fluff ball = more responsibility.   Enter life event number two:

 

I Lost My Job:

My job liked me.  Which is why this was such a blow to the gut.  Also, no one saw the layoff coming when it did.  I’m pretty sure this was the first time a layoff of any sort happened without the little birdies calling to gossip about it beforehand.   I had good insiders.  It was a Thursday morning.  I was in Tucson, at a Hampton Inn about an hour and a half from Sierra Vista (aka the ends of the Earth), for an appointment I had that day.  It took me two flights and the good part of a day to get there, and I didn’t get into my hotel until almost midnight the night before.  I was beat.

My iPhone ringer was off, and I was getting myself together.  When I finally clicked my phone, it lit up to several messages.  One from a very close co-worker saying “Well, I got laid off.   It was a good run,” and a missed call, a voicemail and a text from the CEO of my company.  I just froze.  Could this really be happening?  I felt dizzy.  I knew at this point I’d be laid off too.  I called the CEO back, to just get his voicemail, and then it was a waiting game.  I talked to friends on the east coast who had been let go hours earlier, and it seemed most of them were gone.  When I finally got the call and listened to the cold, unemotional speech, I was silent.  I knew if I said anything it would come out crying.

This has never happened to me before.  I’ve never lost a job.  I’ve gone through multiple layoffs and seen colleagues go through it, but it had never happened to me.  My company was struggling for a while so we all saw it coming, but not so soon.  It just felt like someone punched me.  I didn’t know what to do.  I wasn’t supposed to fly home til that evening and it was only 8am.  I was sure as hell not going to sit in a hotel room all day and wallow in my misery.  I was wallowing.  Hard.

It’s amazing how different a Hampton Inn’s continental breakfast buffet looks when you’re all of a sudden unemployed.  It was like a switch went off and I was acting as if I were homeless and starving.  The apples and bananas got shoved in my purse, a couple of hard-boiled eggs in a bowl for later, TWO cups of coffee for the road, because one of them would surely run out, and now I obviously couldn’t afford to buy another.

I booked a new flight out of Phoenix and drove the two hours to the airport with my smuggled snacks.   As soon as I got there, I sat down at my favorite bar, ordered my favorite chicken sandwich and the largest beer they had.  I quickly whipped out my laptop and updated my resume.  I had a puppy to support.

 

Life Event 3:  I Got a New Job

So yeah.  I got a new job.  But not before two weeks of saying things like “Helllpppp me, I’m poor,”  and “Oliver’s never going to eat again.”  This job was like a little fairy Godmother.  Or my old colleague who referred me for the job I guess would be more of the little fairy Godmother.  The majority of the interview process took place on my front porch in my pajamas, on multiple phone interviews with multiple people until the company flew me to Seattle for the final meeting, which is where I was given an offer which I obviously quickly accepted, and then there might have been some hugging.  Maybe squealing.  I’m not sure.  I’m just not the type who can handle the whole not having a paycheck thing.  I forgot to breathe for a minute just typing about it.

This brings me to my current state… a week and a half with nothing to do except study about cancer.  It’s very confusing.  I didn’t realize how dumb I am.  Things going through my mind as I sit at the pool with 300 pages of notes:

  • Was I always this dumb?
  • What are these words?
  • Can other people understand this?
  • Who’s that guy in the mini shorts?
  • I’m hot
  • I’m thirsty
  • It’s too windy to study
  • Should I go in the pool now?
  • Am I even getting paid right now?
  • I really hope there’s not a test on this
  • Is this even English?
  • I wonder how Oliver’s doing
  • I should have brought him
  • No, he would have been a disaster
  • Maybe I should just close my eyes for a few minutes
  • Yeah, definitely a nap will help
  • Ugh now I’m too sunburnt to study

So that’s going well.  Sorry for this long-winded update.  It’s obviously just a ploy to avoid this gibberish I’m supposed to be learning about.  LEARNING IS HARD.

Tata for now my loves.

xoxo

Gossip Girl

 

 

 

 

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