Facebook has done a couple things nice for me. One is kept me in contact with those handful of people from my past I actually do like and, if it not for the site would not have any connection with. One of my friends from college who I find hilarious, intelligent and would know nothing about today if not for the crazy site, started the group, “You’re both wrong, so shut it.”

It describes itself as:
“This group is dedicated to the idea of shutting out the extremist views on both sides of an issue. You understand that moderates and people willing to compromise have views that are just as strong, yet don’t need to resort to name calling or other infantile arguments. Scare tactics don’t work either. We can think for ourselves.”

As if I didn’t love that topic enough I joined in time to receive an officers title! A Facebook first for me! Although I like everyone’s well matched titles I’m in love with mine, “Assistant Coordinator – Canine Telepathy Services”. I would like my current business cards to be immediately reprinted to reflect this. It is a much more accurate title than any I’ve ever held!

Mom’s are brilliant. I believe this is a well known fact but since Mom’s Day is this weekend let me give you a couple examples of random everyday knowledge my Mom has passed on to me proving she is brilliant.

* “Never say no to fun.” – Simple in it’s brilliance. Sometimes you are tired, or grumpy, or stressed and when something that could be fun is suggested you say something like, “no, going to bed to hide my head instead.” Imagine what you may have missed out on. Shake off the tired, grumps or stress and say “yes.”

Wanna go to dinner? – YES
I think I might go for a hike – COUNT ME IN. YES.
Let’s go to Greece – HELL TO THE YA. (aka Yes)
How about an all night movie marathon? – HOW ABOUT I BRING THE POPCORN. YES.

See it’s easy and if fun isn’t found you will have a good story. There is a partner saying that says, “You make your own fun.” and using that piece of logic anywhere you are has endless potential for being entertaining.

* “A women who works full time deserves the services of a cleaning lady.” – AMEN. I’ve lived by this for awhile now and I’m amazed how happy I am after the cleaning lady has been to my house. I literally dance around happily over the vacuumed floor while breathing in the freshness of AJAX fumes. My only regret is having her come every other week instead of weekly. My dream is to have someone come in every other day. CAN YOU IMAGINE. I NEED TO BE RICH SO I CAN HAVE THIS. I’D BE CONSTANTLY HAPPY!!! CONSTANTLY!!!

One of my friends once said that she would give up food before she would give up her cleaning lady. Preaching to the choir my friend!

I mean take a look at the picture above. THAT is what I came home to recently. I didn’t even know I had 3 pairs of old running shoes still saved in that closet until that moment. WHAT A BRILLIANT VISUAL OF ORDER AND CLEANLINESS.

To all the men out there —- if you can afford for me to have a cleaning lady once a week or more the next words out of my mouth will be “I DO!”

(BTW I realize I may have anger issues as two posts in a row have had the words, or alluded to the words “F**k Off.” I’m oddly okay with that and will be ignoring it and moving on.)

Listen here Facebook I realize you were originally intended to bring me closer to friends and relatives that I rarely speak to but let’s all agree that enough is enough. I can’t stop on my own. You are like crack so I request that you somehow crash never to be fixed again.

Your demise is really for the best of all involved. I have had to “block” a number of “friends” from my feed to keep from hating them. It is for the good of our friendship that I have done this. Although it makes social situations awkward as I have to admit I haven’t seen something they have posted or pretend I have while stuffing my face with chips and dip to try and make it less obvious I know little to nothing about whatever subject they are talking about.

I realize this is not a one sided thing. I have to assume that of my 228 closest “friends” at least 200 of them have blocked me from their feed. I mean who can handle the endless supply of dog jokes, puppies in need of adoption, and pictures of Riggins? A person can only take so much!

Mother’s Day, like Valentine’s Day, and other such holidays only makes my hatred of Facebook deeper and causes an increased amount of times I hit “hide from feed” for people I honestly like but for that one second want to strangle. Here is an example of what you may have done to get hidden (for the good of our friendship —- I can’t emphasize that enough —- for the good of our friendship):
* Posting a picture of your unborn baby’s sonogram or that stick your wife peed on to prove she was indeed pregnant (always the guy who does that). The picture is creepy. Once born I will give you “oohs and awwwes” for your adorable child but at this point he/she looks like an alien. Why would you do that to me? AND WHY THE PEE STICK? Here is the conversation that would happen if someone knocked me up and then posted a pee stick as his profile picture:
Dude: Why’d you block me from your feed.
Wendy: How did you know that did you hack into my account? We are over.
Okay maybe not like that perhaps this:
Dude: Why’d you block me from your feed.
Wendy: Because you made a picture of a stick I peed on your profile picture. No one wants to see that. What is wrong with you? Moron. We are over.
Well — either way my child is born a bastard.
* Posting any ridiculous comment about anything which you ask others to post as well. During valentines day it was about how you are lucky you have the love of your life and if the reader has the love of his/her life he/she should change her status to indicate it. Wow. Thanks. Can I have dagger with that self helping of shame and horror. No really thanks for that. Soooo happy that fad spread like wildfire. For the past fee weeks it has been all about Mom’s day. A similar, “if you have a child…” caused the same dagger reaction from me but I just saw a new posting:
“Mothers’ Day declaration ~ I wanted you before you were born. I loved you when you were born, I saw your face and I knew that I was in love. Before you were an hour old, I knew I would die for you. To this day, I will. This is the miracle of life. Put this on your status if you have a child or children you love more than life. ♥ “
Now don’t get me wrong I really like the woman who posted this. She is an honest and a really nice person. Still … dagger please and golf claps for the bold dare. I mean you are really putting every other mom on the spot since it is inferred that if they don’t repost they don’t love their child’s life as much as their own. Hell I felt so bad I almost reposted it in reference to Riggins.
* Telling me what you are doing vs. working during the hours of 8:30 – 5:30. Now if you are on vacation then feel free to lay it on me pictures and all. If you don’t have a job (and although I do consider housewife/mom a full time job for this specific example let’s define job as somewhere you go from 8:30-5:30 ish Mon – Fri and get paid for) I don’t want to hear about it. The endless trips to Disneyland, the mall, getting nails done, massages, naps during the day, trips to the beach, gym outings, picnics, etc really do nothing more than piss me off as I’m stressing over how to close $50,000 by the end of the day.

That’s the short list but you get the point. So once again Facebook I plead with you. I’m not strong enough to give you up on my own. I need help. For the good of everyone involved you just need to find a way to walk away.

Thank you in advance for understanding.

I buy a number of items from Etsy. Most items are original, hand made, and one of a kind. Add that to the fact that a number of items can be customized with pictures of Riggins and what is there not to love? Seriously.

I want to share my favorite shops with you. Honestly I haven’t purchased from a number of these folks but have made them “favorites” so when the time comes when I need leggings with the Twitter bird that say “follow me” on them I’m ready! To see their fancy goods go to etsy.com and look at these sellers shops:

WowWall
trixiedelixious
Joannarutter
meggancolleen
post
MmeFortuna
theoddbird
UntamedMenagerie

Another headline from a “match” –

“Hello Ladies I’m looking for my other half of the orange”

In June of 2008 I joined my friend Martha and E. (non-Martha names protected remember?) for the Danskin Triathlon. It was oodles of fun and I was so glad I did it. The fun I had that weekend wiped out all the pain and suffering of training for weeks and weeks prior to the event. I forgot that my body was so over exercising that race day couldn’t come soon enough.

Now it’s 2010 and I’ve signed up for the Pasadena Reverse Tri with my friend G. Overall a shorter Sprint Triathlon than I did in 2008 so should be easy right? Well training isn’t. Freakin’ freak freak it’s not fun. If ANYONE tells you it is they are liars. Liar liar pants on fire. You can tell them I said that.

First of let me explain that my friend G. is a little powerhouse. Her energy is endless, her drive to win can’t be matched, and her athletic ability is ridiculous. I’m the exact opposite. I pretend my energy is endless although I’m always exhausted and feel like the walking dead during the day. I don’t need to win I just want to finish (hopefully within 30 minutes of G although that may be asking too much). I’m the OPPOSITE of athletic. That doesn’t mean that I don’t do athletic things it just means my body REALLY doesn’t want to and I have to force every single step, peddle, and arm swing.

Let me explain my life “in training”. Get up and go to work (unless it is Thursday then get up crazy early and go to Bar Method class first). Work a long hard stressful day at a desk job. Jump into crazy traffic to get home. Then, without thinking because thinking is the enemy here, throw on your work out gear, get out the door, and go. Then when you get home go to bed because to stay healthy with this schedule you need 8-10 hours of sleep. Weekend … what’s that? Get up as early or earlier than you normally would. Hit the pool before it gets crowded or the bike before the crazy drivers hit the streets of Glendale. Then after that go ahead and run 3 miles. Not finished because although this is great for you, the dog is pouting in the corner because he has yet to have any fun. Grab him and the keys and head to Runyon to walk up and down a hill (3 miles – ish which means 1 1/2 at a constant incline) so that the adorable dog can run free for awhile. Then the next day repeat.

I now remember what I had forgotten. That on race day that faithful June morning of 2008 my elbow hurt from swimming, my knee was wrapped, and my only goal was to find a way to get those 8-10 hours suggested sleep.

Here’s hoping I make it!

Dear random guy on Chemistry.com. Just because I did not immediately write you back does not mean you have to get all crazy with it and send me an email titled, “WTF” with no text in the body of the message.

WTF indeed!

I ignored, deleted and blocked. Now that I think about it I should have wrote back in the headline BD. Then in the body of the text, “Translated: Bullet Dodged.”

Over the past couple months I’ve become addicted to an exercise class called The Bar Method. Before I start detailing the hell on earth that I pay to endure let me start with the positives.

* By far the NICEST human beings on the planet. Crazy nice. The two owners, every teacher, adorable “boys” who check in and take care of everything. ADORABLY NICE. It makes me feel horrible that I’m so unskilled at what they are attempting to teach me.

* Damn it if you don’t see results. Torture = results. Honestly if I didn’t see changes in my body (like the joy I get when I have to say, “sorry just a sec my pants are falling down”) I’d never go back.

* Pasadena location = super duper nice.

Okay now the cold hard facts. I consider myself fit. Run 5K’s often. Work out (really work out not wussy work outs) 5 days a week minimum. Hike on the weekends. Not pathetic “walks” at an incline. Take a look at the window. See that hill … nah mountain? That. I climb that. I, wrongly, thought that the “girly” work out known as The Bar Method would be nothin’. Even with my complete lack of flexibility I’d still come out as the shinning star student. Right.

WRONG.

It’s hard. And I don’t mean “hard”. I mean F*ing hard. F* F*ing hard.

From start to finish there isn’t a part I’m not concentrating so hard I’m sweating. Each movement is so tiny and yet so horrifically painful. I appreciate the constant “cheering” from the teacher but in my head I often reply “F* off”.

“Wendy good shaking.”
“F*off.”

“Wendy don’t give up.”
“F* off.”

“Wendy leg higher. I know you can do it.”
“F* off.”

“Don’t give up on the ‘hold’ … and hold … and hold … and hold …”
“F* off … and F*off … and F* off.”

You get the point. AND THE SHAKING. If you aren’t shaking you aren’t working. Here’s a test for you. Stand up with something (like a desk or chair) to hold balance with. Feet hip distance part. Go up on your toes. Higher. Higher. As my favorite instructor Maxx (2 the Maxx) would say, “the highest heels ever.” Tuck your seats (aka tighten your butt in), bring your abs in (aka suck in your stomach). Comfy? Good. Now come down as far as you can (bend your knees) keeping that position with your flat back as Max would say, “like you are sliding down a wall.” Comfy? Good. Now go down 2 inches lower. Now just go down a little and up a little with very controlled small movements. Comfy? Good. Now do that about 1 million more times. If you aren’t shaking by the 3rd time then you are cheating. Go higher on those heels and lower to the ground.

That doesn’t even touch things like push ups and non-stop curls and something that makes me shake just thinking about it called “the pretzel” …

Remember when I said I’m fit. Throw that right out the window. I look like giant uncoordinated hippo when up next to the svelte ballerinas. I have to control myself from blurting out in the middle of class, “Oh yah Gumby? Well I can beat you in a 3.1 mile race so … ha!”

As they say no pain no gain. And the non-flexible Wendy can now officially touch her toes. So I’m going to keep going and keep struggling to keep that internal F* you from coming out my mouth!

Info on a “gentleman” who emailed me from a dating site –

My Self-Summary

i have 2 sons , i have been divorced for 5 years and i have been single since then. i have allways been careful not to get hurh again. but i have realised its not a good thing to be alone cos life os too short

(Wendy note: I don’t blame you. Getting “hurh” totally blows and life “OS” too short.)

I’m really good at

everything i do

(Wendy note: Umm. I’m reading this and I’m just going to go out on a limb here and say, “no not everything.”)

The six things I could never do without

God

(Wendy note: That’s one. Even as the “trinity” that is still less than six.)