How I Learned to Stop Slacking and Love the Gym

Hello fellow Broke Ones!  I have a confession to make.  I have been in a total fitness rut.  When I last visited the Doc in a Box for a sinus infection, she noticed what every doctor notices and realllllly wants to talk about:  My spine is as crooked as a question mark.  I have double scoliosis and always have.  She failed to prescribe antibiotics (Why have doctors gotten so stingy about this?), but succeeded in making me feel like a self-destructive dolt for  not taking care of my junkyard of a back.  “You really should be exercising at least an hour a day…preferably yoga.  Your condition is going to get much worse if you don’t.”

Something like this, I assume.
Something like this, I assume.

I’ve heard this before.  I usually get pissier than a Thin Privilege blogger whose doctor tells them they should probably drop a pound or two about it, but I know they’re right.  I just don’t like to think of myself as a person with medical issues.  I don’t want to feel weak or broken.  It’s much easier to just come home after work, hunch over my sewing machine, and self-medicate that back pain with a few glasses of wine.

I finally realized that this is stupid.

I knew I needed to start working out, but I kept coming up with some incredibly brilliant and a couple of ridiculous excuses to avoid it.  Then, I came up with clever arguments for my excuses.

And I’m going to share some of them with you!

Excuse #1:  I look fine.

I don’t mean this in that “DAMN!  That girl is FIIIINE!” sense.  When I look in the mirror naked, I think, “Meh.  I’m alright”.  I look okay. I’m thin, and have a naturally okay body without really having to try very hard.  Nobody’s going to write a graphic romance novel about it, and I don’t relish wearing shorts, but my body is generally tolerable-looking.

Reality:  This isn’t about appearance.  This is about my health.  I need to be in better shape in order to have a happy & fulfilling life when I’m older.  This is an investment in my future.  Having more energy and not having to constantly ask strapping young men to do my heavy lifting for me would be nice too.

Just put that right over there, will ya?
Just put that right over there, will ya?

Excuse #2:  I Can’t Afford a Gym Membership.

When you don’t have much cash to spare for basics like top-shelf liquor, it’s really hard to justify forking over a monthly fee to sweat around a bunch of strangers while awkwardly wearing spandex.

Reality:  Oh puh-leeze.  First of all, you don’t have to join a gym.  You can go running or check out workout DVDs for free from the public library.  And guess what?  There are free gyms out there!  Check out your friends’ apartment complexes and churches (even if you’re a non-believer/non-parishioner, some churches have workout facilities that are open to the community).

You can haggle with the salesperson at a gym.  If their membership numbers are low at the moment, they’ll probably work with you.  The worst thing they can say is no.

Also, don’t forget the power of that decade-old student ID!  I actually used mine to get a significant discount at a really nice gym that I wouldn’t be able to afford otherwise.

Seems Legit.
Seems Legit.

EXCUSE #3:  I Don’t Have Time.

I’m busy!  I have another blog to maintain and tons of sewing to do so I have something to post on said blog!  It’s like having a second job!  I have a social life and relationships to cultivate.  I have housework to do!  And that lawn isn’t going to mow itself!

Reality:  This is such B.S.  How much time do you spend watching TV?  How much time do you spend oversleeping?  How much time do you spend reading stupid blogs? I recently completed a grueling 366 day project.  I made time for that.  I can make time for this.  Find out what is sucking up what could be productive time and stop doing that thing.

Always make time for the love.
Always make time for the love.

EXCUSE #4:  My hair looks too nice today and I don’t want to mess it up.

I mean…I washed it and everything.

Reality:  No it doesn’t.  I’m not saying it looks like crap, but it’s probably not all that great.  Are you a supermodel?  If not, your hair probably looks okay and once you spray on some dry shampoo post-workout it will look okay again.   If you are a supermodel, you probably have a staff person to style your hair for you (and you probably also already work out).

I usually wear my hair like this, so why do I even try to use this excuse?

With this humidity your hair isn't leaving that scarf/messy bun for at least 2 months!
With this humidity your hair isn’t leaving that scarf/messy bun for at least 2 months!

So, these are my top excuses for avoiding working out.  I’m not going to listen to them anymore.  This is the last anyone will hear of them.  🙂

What are your excuses?  Can you come up with your own arguments against them?  Hmmmmmnnnn????

For $1.95 Liquor Drinks, I Will Make This Place Cool

Wow.  Thanks for all the responses and shares of my last post, guys!  But you really shouldn’t have done that.  :/  As I have low self-esteem (I wore a corrective leg brace as a small child), I’m desperate for your approval.  All you’ve done is encourage me to post again…and again…and again.  I’ll probably run out of things to write about in a week and just start posting random pics of my dog.

It has already begun.
It has already begun.

I’m ALWAYS searching for cheap drinks in our fair city.  When a friend told me she’d found a place that offers $1.95 liquor drinks ALL THE TIME ALWAYS (Not just for happy hour), I had to check it out!

This magical place is…


Okay.  I know what you’re thinking.  Hanging out in a chain restaurant bar is about as uncool as you can get, right?  Might as well just meet up with your buds at Applebees.  But at least this is a small chain.

And it’s pretty cool-looking on the outside…

California Dreaming used to be a Train Depot!  Yeah History!
California Dreaming used to be a Train Depot! Yeah History!

And the inside is rather classy as well…

Nice digs!
Nice digs!

The menu is ho-hum, and I personally find the food prices to be higher than they should be, but then they have these amazeballs honey croissants…

Buttery Honey-Laden Mouthgasm!
Buttery Honey-Laden Mouthgasm!

But we’re not even talking food here.  We’re talking about cheap liquor.  Really cheap liquor.  We’re talking about cheap liquor in a non-dive bar setting.  We’re talking cheap liquor in a place with really good bar service (Hi, cute bartender guy!).

We are pleased!
We are pleased!

I’ve decided.  California Dreaming WILL BE A COOL BAR DESTINATION HENCEFORTH!  Are you with me?  Can we all rise above the chain restaurant bar stigma to save some much-needed cash?  Can we?

You know what?  I don’t even care.  Even if no one else hangs out there and I’m judged by all echelons of society, you’ll at least know where to find me!

Say hello to my cheap little friend (the drink, I mean)!
Say hello to my cheap little friend (the drink, I mean)!


Rich Lady Bloggers Can Bite Me on the Ear

No wonder I’m broke!  I clearly lack the initiative and determination to follow through when I start a new blog!  What does this say about other areas of my life?  Hmmmmnnnn…

Anywho.  Hi.  Have you missed me?  I kind of hope so.  It’s good to missed/wanted!

Now…for a random rant!

The other day, I came home from a long day of work after driving my car with no A/C for my 30 minute commute in the 105 degree heat.  It’s not that I don’t want A/C or don’t use it.  My mechanic cannot find a new blower motor for my car.  They don’t make them anymore, and unless I can find a 1986 Sirocco which is the only other car to have this particular part other than my super-rare boutique edition Cabriolet, I’m stuck with my portable sauna.  :/

Hey guy!  I'll do lewd things to you for that blower motor you've got there (not a euphemism).
Hey guy! I really dig that blower motor you’ve got there (not a euphemism)!

I fired up my laptop to check out the facebook news of the day, and saw something in my feed that made me deeply angry for no reason.

A rich lady blogger that I must have clicked “like” upon at some point had posted something like, “Ahhhhh!  Housewife Sangria on the new porch!” with a pic that looked something like this.

(only hers was instagrammmed)
(only hers was instagrammmed)

“Bite me, Lady.” I said.  “Bite me!” I said again, this time with a deep seething resentment.  And in that moment, I realized something:  I hate rich lady bloggers.

Go eat bags of rancid cat testicles, you beautiful bitch.
Go eat bags of rancid cat testicles, you beautiful bitch.

I hate that all they write about is the expensive stuff they’re able to afford with their husband’s money.  I hate that they’ve managed to marry well, while I only manage to break off ill-conceived engagements.  I hate that their skincare regime costs more to maintain than the military of a small country.  I hate that their rearview mirror didn’t fall off that day, smacking them on the forehead in the process. I hate that they get to have fancy dinners all the time while I…uh…er…okay I actually do splurge on food and booze so I can’t complain here.  I hate that they can afford to have logos made for their blogs, while I’ve been using this pic for the last three years:

It's actually pretty awesome.
It’s actually pretty awesome.

So…while they’re feeling like this:

I can buy all the things!!!!
I can buy ALL THE THINGS!!!!

I’m feeling like this:

I have to budget for the Target brand version of Oil of Olay.

When that lady wrote about coming home from a day of shopping (which I don’t even enjoy) to chill on the porch of her fabulous new house, it felt like a slap on the face.  I can’t even sit on my rental’s porch without random drifters coming by and asking for money.  :/

Okay!  I'll give you a dollar!  But just this once!
Okay! I’ll give you a dollar! But just this once!

But why was I upset?  She’s just doing her thing…not hurting anyone.  I even know her, and it’s not like I dislike her as a person.  She’s actually really nice.

I could only come up with one conclusion, and it’s pretty damn embarrassing.  I was jealous.  ME!  Jealous!  And that made me feel like an idiot.  I have an awesome life with awesome friends and I probably have more fun than most people (and yes…even her).

Thanks to Amanda Danielson for the pic!
Photo evidence of fun!

Begrudging someone else of their success is just tacky.  Calling someone else overprivileged smacks of a lack of drive and personal responsibility on your part.  I know this.

So…I took a moment…muddled some mint from my garden with a lime, and added in a few fresh strawberries, some rum, and soda water…

Actual pic of my Actual Mojito!
Actual pic of my Actual Mojito!

…and clicked “unlike” until I can evolve to be less of a jerk.