Spoilers (Is that enough of a warning?)

If you aren't watching ABC's Nashville than you are missing out. Not only does it showcase some of the best  talent we have in the entertainment industry (I'd watch Connie Britton take a shit) but the music coming out of this show is incredible.

It's not just country tunes reminiscent of Taylor Swift (although Boys and Buses is a super catchy tune) there are also ridiculously sick soft rocky bluegrass-esc songs like Change Your Mind. Can you just trust me on this one? There is honestly a song in every episode that makes me go...

WANT.
NEED.
DOWNLOAD.

Seriously. We can't even discuss When the Right One Comes Along because I might get the cold sweats and start crying about how badly I want to be Clare Bowen. That song seriously changed my life. Which is a tall order but you know when you just hear a song at the exact right moment in your life and you're like "Oh yeah, thank you Jesus, you  know what I need."

Plus the characters are all juicy and layered and fun and mean and real. It can be soapy, but so can every show on television. But I can honestly say I've haven't loved to hate a character this much since Victoria Grayson.

Anyway so the reason that I've labeled this post as a spoiler is because I'm about to talk about a pretty integral part of the show.

There are two characters named Scarlett and Gunnar and they write music together. (Change your Mind & When the Right One Comes Along are supposed to be songs that they wrote) And they are just one of the will they? / wont they? couples on the show. And they are so awesome together that I've been dying a little bit all season wanting them to get with the smoochies.

Now last night's episode ended in a way that I like to refer to as sexy sweet.

After identifying his brother's body at the police station, Gunnar goes MIA for a whole day. Leaving Scarlett freaking out on many levels back home (ps. they're also roommates). Mostly because his brother was bad news who brought a gun into their home after promising that he got rid of it. When Gunnar finally returns home, in shambles (rightly so), Scarlett comforts him in the best way she knows how. With sweet sweet loving.

He blames himself, he's completely torn up, and when her hugs don't do the trick she kisses him, which then leads to more.

Here is why I bring this up and you can all tell me that I am entirely wrong in this particular theory. After the scene ended my Mom was like "That seems like an inappropriate time to have sex, your brother just died." and I kind of agreed, the timing could be better. But I think that people find comfort in sex. Especially when it's the type of relationship that these two characters have. Full of caring and devotion. Friendship and dare I say, love. They have a creative connection through their writing that has grown into a friendship that (fan fingers crossed) will grow into weekly smoochies. It was beautiful to me.

That moment when there is nothing to be said and nothing to be done. The only way I can help you is by showing you how much I care about you. I can't change what's happened but I can make you forget for a little while. Everything I'm feeling is too much, so let me explore some more of you.

I know I'm a hopeless romantic and things like this don't happen that much in real life.

I know it's just a show.

But it made me feel things in my gut. It made me remember what I aspire to find someday.


And if you're wondering how good Connie Britton's singing voice is, here's your answer.

No Boys Allowed

Seriously. If you're a dude don't read this. You're either a man that doesn't want to hear about this particular subject or you're a man who is gay and thinks we have a gnomb down there. (Shout out Easy A! What up?)

Seriously. Seriously. Don' t keep reading. Because I'm about to talk about my body it ways that only woman will find entertaining and hilarious. Yes, I'm going to talk about THAT part of my body.


Stop.




I said STOP.










Are you still reading? It's your mental picture funeral.

So this is the sordid sad tale of my poor, sweet, innocent vagina. Yeah, I said vagina. She's been through a lot in the last few years. And I've actually toyed with sharing this story or not because it's like a whole new level of personal. But I laugh so hard whenever I think about it that I finally decided that it's meant to be told for generations to come.

When I was living in Glasgow I got a sinus infection that left me debilitated. Mostly because I did that thing I do where I believe I'm fine but I'm really not, so I let it go for a week or two until my girlfriend insists that I go see the doctor and the doctor doesn't even have to see me because she can tell by my email that I'm dying of a sinus infection and just sends my prescription in. You know? THAT thing.

I get my antibiotics, and everything is all fine and good. I eat my yogurts. Still fine. Still good. Until it's not. Until I get the yeast infection to end all yeast infections. Seriously. Apparently UK antibiotics are much stronger than US ones. Oh and also I did that thing where I used over the counter meds, but they didn't really help, but I refused to go to the doctor because "I was fine". Weird, something new for me.

I wasn't fine.

It got to the point where the itch was so burning that I was putting unflavored yogurt on my Va-J-J. I had tried medicines to ease the burning itch, they did not work. I was to the point of turning to a breakfast option to ease my pain. My Ex wins the prize for being the best caretaker ever, because at this point it had literally been 3-4 weeks of me being the most miserable person in the world. So here I am putting a yummy breakfast treat on my vagina, when I finally get in to see the Doc.

A swab is taken. The worst is running through my brain. I have athletes foot of the vagina! Only to find out that the infection is gone, but I've irritated my skin to the point of no return. So the doctor did what any right minded medical professional would think of to do...

She put my vagina on steroids. My vagina was 'roid raging.

Yeah. That happened.

And that cured everything for a long while. But then all of the sudden last spring it started bothering me again. I had some 'roids left but they were going to expire soon and be gone soon so I went to the doctor, sans insurance. That's how miserable this was ladies, I was willing to pay out the butt to get help.



My amazing gyno told me she couldn't see anything particular and prescribed me 3 things:

1. Stop wearing underwear to bed. (Umm if you don't already do this, please do. It's very liberating)
2. Desitin. Yup. I've been using baby butt cream on my vashoosh. That is as bad as it sounds.

So both of these things helped and even though it does act up from time to time, for the most part I wont need to do the final thing that my gyno recommended.

3. If none of the above had worked, I would have had to take my vagina to the Dermatologist.




So that's my tale. Please share and help keep other unsuspecting young ladies from needing steroids and baby butt cream to keep their vagina in line.

Jiggle Jiggle Wiggle Wiggle

Yesterday I finally made it back to Kickboxing after the tragic tragic day when my new gloves tore the sh*t out of my knuckles. I seriously made plans to never actually punch someone in the face because if I caught teeth it would tear my knuckles up in the same way, plus I'm pretty sure your bones hurt after that too. So, note to self, no face punching. Aim elsewhere.

So I was nervous to go back because it has been nearly a full two weeks. Plus I was scared for my wee knuckles. But I bought some new gloves AT the CKO gym so I couldn't screw it up again. (This was my third try at buying gloves. The first time I just bought wraps thinking they were gloves and the 2nd time the gloves ate my hands) But these new ones are kind of awesome sauce so I'm a happy camper.

Anyway in the past 2 weeks I haven't kicked boxes, but I've done a few work outs here or there. But I definitely felt my body expanding. Clothes are a little tighter, things are a little wigglier and I'm not singing as many verses of "I Feel Pretty!" every morning when I get ready. So I'm glad to be back at it. Even working out 3 days a week makes me feel better about myself.

Going back felt great. I love walking back into the gym, having instructors say "There she is!" and recognizing that I've been missing. (And not judging me for it.) But there was one moment at the beginning of class where I was reminded why I work out. I was so flippin' jiggly... Like a bowl full of Jello or old Saint Nick.

The most devastating moment was when we dropped down for some mountain climbers and I could literally feel my exo-layers move up and down as I worked it. GROSS!

But guess what else? It helped me to push harder that whole class. It helped me push myself.

I've kind of come to a conclusion. The scale is not my friend. And not because I think I'm a fatty (even though I kind of do because food and I are frenimies).

It's not my friend because there is nothing that the scale can tell me that I don't already know about myself. I know that I need to lose a few pounds to be healthier. But my weight does not define who I am as person.

This is something that I often have to remind myself. And every man, woman and child should remind yourself. Be healthy. Eat well. Move your body. But do not let the outer you define the inner you.

You will be happier and more comfortable if you work out and eat healthier. I am living proof of that. But a few pounds extra does not an unhealthy person make. It does not an unkind person make. It does not a bad person make.

My completely unsolicited advice is to get to know your body. Look at yourself nakey before jumping in the show. Touch your belly, your arm fat, your butt, your thighs. Get to know the body that you have so that you can work towards the body that you want.

Ok, let me climb off my soap box and finish this blog post.

I'm a huge fan of this photo (which is not mine and has totally and completely been stolen off the interwebs)

There is no more proof than that for me to realize that there is nothing a scale can do for me.

I base my health by the tightness of my jeans. The fit of my clothes. The looseness of my clothing. The way certain shirts fit around my upper arms. How much my jeans leave little red lines on my tummy. If I have that annoying blub that bras sometimes sneak in just to keep you on your toes.

With one week of CKO and other work outs I can see changes in my body. Those changes may be entirely in my head, but that doesn't matter. Because I feel it and I dig it and I want more.

My scale is no longer a huge part of my life. It cannot tell me that I am b-e-a-utifal! Any why would I want something like that around?

And I am, you know. Beautiful. Even if my body jiggle jiggles during kickboxing class. 

Stupid Love, Crazy

Last night my family and I were sitting at the dinner table when we brought up Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler. In the original Arthur Conan Doyle novels (which I admittedly know little about), Irene solves a crime before Sherlock. (Shout out to Gina McCrostie for said info)

Because she solved the crime before him, Sherlock had to admit that in this particular case someone was smarter than him. Which meant that for the first time Sherlock was able to love someone. It was because Sherlock found someone that could challenge his intellect that he could love her.

Ok. Here's my argument, and it got kind of heated at the dinner table.

I say that if you think you are smarter than your partner, it will never work. It was then argued from around the table that if people who were smarter than other people never got married than there would be no marriage.

Yes I agree with that. People marry people who are smarter than other's all the time, but either they are a douche and don't voice it, or they have absolutely not idea because they're so in love.

I'm not saying that there would never be any marriages where one person is smarter than the other. I'm saying marriages where someone believes that they are smarter than their partner, it will not work.

Because that's not love. That's a power play. I'm not being very articulate right now.

But my point I guess is this. Sherlock was able to be intrigued and infatuated and in love because he knew that she could beat him. Because he knew that she was better than him at something. And sickly enough he then felt challenge to right this wrong in the fabric of his life.

If someone believes that they are smarter than their significant other, that equals to believing that you are better than them. It's not necessarily something you mean to do, but it happens. Intellectual compatibility is extremely important in a relationship.

And it doesn't have to be in the same things. You may know more about mathematics or science or bull riding or newspaper ink, but guess what? I know more about theatre and cooking and writing and making people  laugh.

Having more knowledge in one topic does not make you smarter in life, it makes you smarter in astrophysics or solving crimes. Sherlock has extreme tunnel vision however and believes that his abilities made him superior to everyone in all aspects of life. He never understood that street smarts are as vitally important in life, as book smarts. He's kind of like Sheldon Cooper.

I guess I'm just blabbering now. But I'm sure it makes sense somehow, somewhere.

I think I'm distracted because Liar Liar is on and Jim Carey keeps cracking me up. 

Gross City. Population: 1

I just watched myself clip membership cards onto my key chain for both Qdoba & Panera. As I did I purposefully did not allow them to touch my CKO key fob. Why? Because I don't want my CKO key fob to know about my love for delicious foods that have no place being in and around my mouth.

Ugh. Why??? WHYYY? Why do I love food so much???

Today I got my hair done by my fabulous savior Jamie. I seriously cannot thank her enough. She has made me feel fabulous in a year of, yeah, I'll say it, depression. She is literally my little angel. Anyway, her adorable daughter Jaylin (Sp? sorry Jamie!) was home today and she went to give me a hug and goes "My arms don't fit around you!!!"

Out of the mouths of babes. Thanks Jay! I'm aware I need to loose a few pounds! Geeze!

But that didn't stop me from getting Qdoba for lunch and joining their membership group. What is wrong with me?

I've said it before, I will never be one of those people who can survive on only healthy foods. I like my queso. I like my broccoli cheese soup. I'm sorry, you will never break me!!!

But I need to get back on the workout cycle. Maybe literally a bicycle. Fattay!

I just put this song on while I write and I am now dancing along as I type. Oh yeah, it's happening. Doesn't that bring you right back to some major Clare Danes / Leonardo DiCaprio make out sesh-es? ugh what I wouldn't have given to have fallen in a pool with that man. Or any type of water because really at the end of the day I still want to be Kate Winslet.

She's coming to my dinner party.

Oh I haven't told you about my dinner party yet. I've decided I want to have a dinner party someday with my favorite ladies. So far that list includes but is not limited to:

Emma Stone
Kristen Wigg
Amy Poehler
Tina Fey
Kate Winslet
Jennifer Lawrence

It will either be the loudest or the quietest dinner party in history. I'll make sure to let you all know when it happens. If you're super lucky you might get an invite too!

Lazy Days & Good TV

I am so lazy lately. It's horrible. But it's like a sickness isn't it? It starts with missing one day of working out, laying in bed, partying, being not active.

And then suddenly the next day and the next you're just the same. Lazy butt!!!

It wouldn't be so bad if the rest of my days weren't chock full of crap going on so I can't really squeeze it in until Saturday now. OK I just lied to you. Rude. I could squeeze it in but that would mean getting up wicked early. Which is gross city. I've just been so sleepy lately. I'll get better. I have to get better.

Good golly I'm even annoying myself right now. Let's switch gears shall we?

O.M.G. Did anyone else see Downton Abbey or Revenge or Castle in the last few days???? Cause I did and it was ridiculous!!!! So I guess now is where I say SPOILER ALERT.

Let's start with Downton. I'm not going to freak about the same thing that everyone else is. We all knew that Dan Stevens was leaving the show. So for me, watching that last episode was more a waiting game then a cry fest. I knew he was going so I was just waiting to see how it happened. I'm more pissed about the way they did it than anything. First off, it happened almost exactly when it happened for Branson and Sybil. Right after the baby is born. Which I guess is super nice for the viewers, yay happy moment, but it's just too much. Too balanced. What really killed me in this episode was the Mrs. Hughes/Branson scene where Mrs. Hughes tells him that Sybil would be proud of him and he breaks down. Kill me now and let me marry Tom Branson please!!!! Also the whole Jimmy / Thomas deal, my heart hurt! When Jimmy is all "I can never give you what you want." And Thomas asks for friendship and Jimmy says something like "That I can do." well that was an American 2013 version of what he said. Anyway, in my opinion although the ending ending was like a big F-U I really felt like the rest of the characters story lines were like a big Thank You. So I'm good with how Downton ended. I may be one of the only ones.

So then there's Revenge. Not quite as lovely but just as heart wrenching. After a crazy wild ride with that coo coo banana pants Nate, Amanda finally does something I appreciate and pushes Jack off out into the wild blue yonder so she can save him. But when Emily and Nolan find his bod', she sends Nolan back to shore with Jack and goes after Amanda. Now, throughout the show you've recognized that Emily really does care for her, but it wasn't until this episode that you've realized that she truly loves her. And whenever Emily Thorne comes unraveled forget about it! I become a sobbing mess. I think it just has to do with the fact that 90% of the time she is a badass bitch, so when she starts to come undone, I become undone. The more I watch this show the more I realize how amazing Emily Van Camp is. I mean the rest of the cast is incredible, but she was never my uber favorite until now. She is rocking my socks off this season. So is Nolan, but he always did.

Ok. Ok. Ok. Ok. So now the real show I want to talk about and not just because I'm watching it for a second time with my father right now. Castle. One of the only shows on television that I can honestly say brought their main characters together and the entire show has not gone down the shitter. This past episode Rick Castle's daughter gets accidentally involved in an Egyptian politicians daughter's kidnapping. Here's why this episode had me sobbing the whole time... Nathan Fillion. He's usually the goofball who solves the case through his wit. This episode he pulls an Emily Thorne and falls apart. I. CAN'T. DEAL. I cannot deal watching my beloved funny man hurt so much. Ugh. That word right there describes my biggest feeling. Ugh. My gut wrenched. My heart broken. For 45 minutes. I have the biggest hope that this two part "event" will end happily. I mean in the preview for next week they crack a Liam Neeson joke so I can only hope that things turn out well for Alexis. Cause also, lets be honest some more... she's one of the only truly talented young actresses out there so I'd sure shit be bummed if they took her off the show.

Well that turned around fast.

I guess I'll let you all know I've re-evaluated my Lent sacrifice. So much so that I don't have one right now. Awkward. Sorry Jesus. 

Whose Bright Idea was it...

...to start Lent the day before Valentine's Day?

Either you're in a relationship & getting lots of candy or you're not in a relationship & you're going to eat at Buffalo Wild Wings where the buffalo wings live. And you're avoiding crowded tables by eating in the bar, where the beer lives.

I'm not Catholic but I do give something up around Lent as more of a challenge to myself. In the past I have given up:

Coffee.
Frivolous spending.
Adding sugar & salt.

And this year I was/am giving up Buying my Vices, which is including but not limited to: foods that are bad for me, clothing and alcohol.

Now all of the above have loopholes. How gross am I that I challenge myself but then give myself a loophole? Lame sauce.

Can't drink coffee? There's always teas.
Can't spend money frivolously? Decide it's something you NEED.
Can't ADD sugar or salt to your food? Put it in while you cook.

And the piece de la resistance...

Can't buy your vices? Have someone else buy them for you.

Which is kind of making me feel like an asshole. Because although my motivation was to get other people to buy me drinks via my boobs and bodacious ass, it turns out that the responsibility is falling more on my friends than I had intended. Which makes me uncomfortable. Because you can say "No I'm just not drinkin'!" all you want. But when you're friends are out for party time with one of their favorites, they're going to get you drunk. It's a mission. And I have lots of party plans coming up. Ugh.

I think I need to re-evaluate and re-evaluate fast.

Because I've got a hot date with BDubs tonight & I don't wanna F it up...

We're Gonna Make it After All

I'm there again. I made it. I someone how fought through the haze and the fog of being pathetic and realized, I am happy being single. And I swear to fricken' God (yeah I said it) if anyone comes in and messes this up I am going to be so pissed.

Here's how I realized this... I have plans coming up to go to a Craft Beer Fest with Kari & Steve & I have plans to go out to PSU with Bridget, Kari, Steve & Arthur (among others) in the month of March. Big Saturday plans full of socializing and I realized that I don't want to be tied down when I'm at these events. I want to be able to flirt and not care about texting someone back or making sure I don't go too far. I also realized that the last time I got to the Happy Place (what I am now calling that moment when you realize being single is where it's at) it was the same type of situation. One day I just woke up and decided I'm done trying because I have future stuff that is more important than a boy toy.

So I deactivated my OK Cupid profile. I don't need the distraction of dudes right now.

It's not the best timing as I was had a date on Sunday with one guy and another on Monday with another guy. Both perfectly pleasant lovely people who I will probably see again if they ask but then I'll have to tell them that I'm not looking for anything serious at the moment. Awkward. I hate that conversation, mostly because it makes me feel like a dude.

But I have a month and half left on my ridiculously expensive CKO membership and I intend on getting my moneys worth. Dates interfere with that, so no bueno.

Today is a great day. Tomorrow may not be a great day but today is good. So I am good. Holler Shot Caller.

Remember that...

RomCom that started with the guy being a total douche and the girl drunk dialing a few weeks later and then he does a complete 360 and realizes he's in love with her and they live happily ever after?

Or that...

Romance Novel where the girl texts and calls the guy all the time and he never really gets back to her and when he does it's on his agenda and then eventually he decides that she's the one and they get married?

No?

Because they don't exist. And for a while I thought it was because RomComs and Romance Novels are so unrealistic, and in part they are, because they only show the most day dreamy sides of love. But it's also because depression isn't always a form of entertainment. Especially for those who enjoy a good romance.

So when Greg Berandt tells us to treat ourselves like the RULE and not the EXCEPTION, he is doing it for our own good. Eventually there will be someone who doesn't have to lose you in order to realize they're in love with you. Eventually there will be someone who wants you around all the time, so much so that they will be texting and calling you.

I've been dating a lot for me. I'm back on OKStupid (yeah, I said it) and although I'm not being AS aggressive as I was in the past there are a few people I've been talking to. I've been on a couple of dates in the past few weeks. Neither panned out to be what I'd hoped, but I'm going. A friend of a friend also asked if he could take me out to dinner. And I said yes. That's like an actual date. Then today he actually called me. Like. On the telephone. I couldn't talk because I was a work but I mean, seriously. That's so 1990.

I've also started utilizing that super expensive CKO Kickboxing membership that I bought, but I need to do that more. I think I'm going to get of OK so that I can do just that. Because, as I've said before I need to work some more on me before I find myself and us.

(In a completely unrelated topic someone please wapp me on the head if I ever start saying "we" in regards to me and my partner. "We didn't like that movie." "We don't like that restaurant." Ugh. Gross. You're two different people, one of you may like pad tai, the other may not.)

Anyway, back on topic. I'm reminding myself every day that life is not a romance novel, life is not a movie staring Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling (I just love them together, their chemistry is bangin'!).

Life is realistic. You meet someone. Maybe there's a spark. Maybe there's a friend spark. My last relationship I didn't realize I was in love until I was. I just thought I was in friend love. I wasn't.

Sometimes it takes time. I have to get over the spark.

Sometime the spark lies. The spark is something that happens in Romance Novels and RomComs. In real life, I think I've lost some faith in it.

But "it" isn't everything. So I guess well see.

For now I'm the rule. I have to be. Greg Berandt told me so and I trust him. 

When you see her, don't tell my mom.

So as with a lot of my tattoos I have something in mind and then I see something else and I want that too. Right now I probably have close to $1,000.00 worth of tattoos on my mind that I want on my body. One of them was designed by my lovely friend Travis and it looks like this...

But then I realized that I don't quite know where I want it. At first I wanted it starting on my shoulder and coming over onto my collar bone. But then I realized that will never look as cool as I think it does in my head. So now I think this one is going to start on my shoulder, almost on my arm, in that armpit-ey arena and the birds will fly across my should with the last one being on the nape of my neck. That's where I'm at right now with it anyway. But then I saw...

this on Pinterest and I was sold. I've always wanted sometime on my arm but I've always been wary. I've seen some amazing work on my friends but I was always like "Am I cool enough to pull off a badass sleeve?" The answer is yes and no. But this one is just so pretty that I feel I cannot live without it in my life.

Now people have said to me in the past, and this is no joke "Janice, what about when you get married? It will be there for everyone to see! In your pictures!" 

These people misunderstand part of the fun of getting tattoos. And that is... to show them off. So actually my dear friends I want them to be seen in my wedding pictures. I want them there, because if you like something enough to get it permanently on your body, guess what, you better like it enough to have it show up in your photos. Seriously people, get it together. 

Anyway. I figured I'd just keep everyone updated with what's going on in my tattoo brain. Oh & if you see my mom, don't tell her. 

Thanks.