A Question of Workouts

I am experiencing a crisis of faith. Not in religion or politics or those other silly things people spend all their time debating, but the real important area of my life – jazzercise.

For those who don’t have the pleasure of seeing me in person, it may shock you to know (especially since I used to talk about it all the time) that I haven’t been consistently going to jazzercise for almost two years now. This is because of my knee. It is a fail knee. It should not have passed inspection.

Back in April 2014, while at jazzercise, something went horribly, horribly wrong. I stepped out for a lunge and immediately felt something in my knee hate me. Being me, I finished class. I could walk at first, but the more I tried to power through the evening  the stiffer it became, until eventually the entire knee locked up and I could no longer bend it. This continued for a few weeks with the knee doing better in the morning and consistently getting worse as the day went on. Eventually, I went to a doctor, and per their suggestion did MULTIPLE MONTHS of physical therapy. This didn’t really fix the problem so I went back to the doctor, and they basically said stop doing stuff and rest. And thus began a cycle of me “resting” my knee by doing literally NOTHING for a bit, then trying to strengthen it up, and then just merely walking too much in a day would regress it back to being locked up and sucking at life.

It has been frustrating. And while at this point it’s doing the best so far since the initial incident, that’s because I have pretty much changed my entire lifestyle to avoid doing things that irritate my knee. That includes driving. I now drive entirely with my left foot (don’t worry, I’m really good at it by this point. It’s not illegal, right? I have yet to investigate).

Workouts have been one of the most frustrating parts. When I injured my knee I was at my peak. I was going to jazzercise 4-7 times a week, walking to hit 10,000 steps each day, and starting to do some ab routines at home as well. I looked and felt great. During the first year of injury I tried doing other workouts like swimming or walking that are low impact and were recommended, and I still ran into problems if I tried to do as much as I wanted. I purchased PiYo during one of the good periods, but found that the intense schedule of several days of working out in a row was doing more harm than good. My goal throughout it all was to find something I could do in order to build up the muscles and get back to jazzercise.

I’m kind of at that point now, but it’s still not ideal.

I have been able to walk or do workout videos at home for a few months without setback. Buoyed by this success I went to one jazzercise class in November, and one again this past weekend.

The great news is I could make it through the whole class and didn’t hurt myself. Yay!

The troublesome news is that it wasn’t very satisfying. In order to not hurt myself, I had to modify a LARGE amount of the routine. I thought it would be okay, because as any good jazzerciser knows there is typically both a low-impact and high-impact version of the song. But I’ve never done the low-impact before, so I don’t immediately know what it is. While the instructors will show you the low-impact version, what I found is that several times they do it halfway through the song. I totally understand that with pacing and whatnot this may be necessary. It doesn’t really help me though. I spend the first half of the song rambling about like a buffoon, and mainly just doing side steps because I DON’T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO.

The other problem is that jazzercise is now focusing on several different class types. This last weekend I ended up in a Strength class. This class doesn’t really have the cardio aspect but rather uses the routines you normally have at the end to strengthen muscles. Almost all of the routines were standing. And guess what? Standing legs consists mainly of squats and lunges, NEITHER of which I can do more than a few comfortably.

I suppose I could have tried and figured out something to do on the floor, but that would mean I’m completely messing up the room to go try and come up with my own routine. At which point, why am I even at jazzercise?

What I used to love so much about jazzercise were things like the music, the dancing, the camaraderie, and feeling accomplished with myself for working out. On Saturday, I liked the music and seeing some old friends, but that was about it. I felt more frustrated than anything because I couldn’t do so much of the routine. I felt the same even when I was in the normal class in November, so I’m not sure that’s going to change.

Am I over jazzercise?

I truly hope that at some point my knee will be more stable and I will be able to fully participate again, but for now (and possibly months or *gulp* years to come), I’m wondering if jazzercise IS NO LONGER RIGHT FOR ME.

This feels so wrong to say, like I’m renouncing the beliefs of my childhood.

But here’s the thing, if I don’t feel good about exercising I’m not going to do it.

I know what works for me. I need a routine to follow. I need to be able to modify when necessary without feeling like I’m throwing others off, and I need to have a routine that I modify sparingly, not something where I’m changing basically the entire damn workout. Because I am so unexpectedly social these days, I also need to be able to fit my workouts in when I can instead of going to a dedicated class every night.

I’ve found all these things by staying in and using a combination of walking and workout videos I enjoy (Tracy Anderson to name one, which targets all the muscles physical therapy really wanted me to focus on). I still get motivated by talking to others or doing online challenge groups. I was doing this as a placeholder to returning to jazzercise, but at this point, do I even want to return full time?  

And I swear to god if one more person suggests weight-lifting as an alternative, I WILL HIT THEM. OH, YOU THINK NO ONE HAS EVER MADE THAT SUGGESTION BEFORE!?! IN WHAT WAY IS THAT ANYTHING LIKE JAZZERCISE OTHER THAN THE FACT THAT IT IS EXERCISE? WHILE WE’RE SUGGESTING RANDOM ASS EXERCISE OPTIONS, WHAT ABOUT WATER BALLET?!

Oh hold up, that one might actually be interesting… 

How to Handle Going (Semi) Viral

Step 1: Make Sure This Is Really Happening

I was thinking today about how slackerish I’ve been on my writing. I logged into Blogger just to see what my last post was even about, since I couldn’t remember. Then I had several minutes where I thought my dyslexia had reached epic proportions of awful because I couldn’t figure out why the graph of recent views had 100+ on what looked to be a LOW visit day.

Turns out, I went (semi) viral.

Step 2: Figure Out WTF Happened

Detailed research soon revealed that a random post from last year (31 Signs You May Have a Jazzercise Problem) was the cause of about 96% of the views. I couldn’t get anymore information except that the bulk of the views were coming from a Facebook link.

So I turned to Google.

Extensive Googling revealed that SEVERAL Jazzercise locations had shared this blog post! Oddly enough my Jazzercise had not posted the blog link, which is why I didn’t know this was happening.

Step 3: Tell People

Obviously it’s not real unless you immediately text or run over and squeal at friends/family to tell them all about it. I figured while I was at it, I should probably write a blog post about my success.

I also realized as I was telling people that it was the perfect time to remind them of all the other facts this reveals. I can now prove that I’m ridiculously clever, have an amazing sense of humor, and am potentially the most amazing person they know. I’m also crazy humble and down to earth about my success!

Step 4: Do a Victory Dance

Maybe even more than one if you’re feeling really excited. I did. I decided it was a baking night so I could have celebratory dancing all night long. This ended when the oatmeal cookies refused to cooperate, but there was plenty of dancing squeezed in before that.

You don't get a picture of the victory dance. Deal with it.

 

Step 5: While You’re At It, Have a Celebratory Meal…

 

(actual dinner pictured on left)

 

…Or Drink

(actual mini champagne on right)

 

You know, or do both. Why not? I’m semi-viral. I totally earned it.

Step 6: Calm Down

Of course a short time later I’ve completely forgotten about it because I’m busy swearing at f***ing oatmeal cookies. It’s important to keep things in perspective. I may be a Master Blogger (also known as Dumb Lucky since this is more a Jazzercise promotion thing than an actual example of my writing prowess), but clearly I have yet to perfect baking. F***ing cookies are ruiners.

31 Signs You May Have a Jazzercise Problem

1.     Within five minutes of talking to someone new you have mentioned jazzercise.

2.     Every time you hear a song on the radio that you’ve done in class, you announce to whoever’s nearby “this is also a jazzercise song.”

3.     Notice you say “also.” This is necessary because at some point you have already told them something is a jazzercise song.

4.     When you hear a jazzercise song you inevitably run through the routine in your mind.

5.     How much you like/dislike a song now depends on how much you like/dislike a jazzercise routine.

6.     Certain songs tied to REALLY HARD strength routines make you cringe within 5 seconds of starting to play.

7.     This happens even when you’re not in a jazzercise class and they’re simply playing on the radio.

8.     When planning a vacation, you check to see if there’s a jazzercise location nearby.

9.     You plan your social events for the week around your jazzercise schedule.

10. You plan your work week around your jazzercise schedule.

11. You plan your meals for the day around your jazzercise schedule.

12. You become confrontational and may even threaten people when they throw off your jazzercise schedule.

13. You no longer like holidays, because classes are cancelled and it ruins the jazzercise schedule.

14. Friends have offered to come to a jazzercise class simply because that may be the only time they see you.

15. You have to consciously plan out ahead of time days to skip class so you have a “rest” day.

16. You’ve done laundry only for the jazzercise clothes.

17. You’ve run the dishwasher half full (or less) because you wanted your favorite water bottle for jazzercise.

18. In class, people have started avoiding your standard spot.

19. You have done the routines so many times you recognize when the instructors make mistakes.

20. You have helped the instructors correct their mistakes.

21. You have been asked multiple times to become an instructor.

22. When visiting other jazzercise classes, you have been mistaken for an instructor.

23. You’ve gotten less than five hours of sleep because you woke up for jazzercise class in the morning.

24. You’ve driven over an hour out of your way to go to a jazzercise class.

25. You’ve offered to be the designated driver simply because you’re planning on going to jazzercise the next morning.

26. Missing three days of class in a row throws you into a panic.

27. Even if you are legitimately sick for one or more of those days.

28. Even if you are still incredibly sore and experiencing muscle cramps for one or more of those days.

29. Even if there are exciting, rare social events during those days which is why you’re missing class in the first place.

30. You have to call your mother or best friend for approval to feel okay about skipping a jazzercise class when it’s not a planned “rest” or “skip” day.

31. When you realize that you accidentally missed class because you forgot it was cancelled and you didn’t go to the earlier one, you have to console yourself by making a list of why you have a jazzercise “problem” so you feel a little less guilty.

4 Life Truths I Learned at Jazzercise

Thankfully I have been able to jazzercise again the last two weeks. There was a few week period where due to travel and then my knee being incredibly weird I had to stop. As my friend Jenn put it:  “thank goodness you are Jazzercizing again!  What else would you talk about?   You’d have to result to only TVD and Originals and I don’t know that you’re caught up yet.  So how on earth would you function in society?”

I realized when I returned to jazzercise after my brief hiatus how much I need it to be happy. Not only because it’s a huge stress reliever, but because when I go to jazzercise I am reminded of some very important life truths that help me keep things in perspective. Here are the four top life truths I learned in jazzercise.

4. People Are Stupid (but get over it)

There are times at jazzercise where I am incredibly annoyed by some of the other participants. It has nothing to do with knowing the routine, or how well they do it. Jazzercise is a judge free zone.

No, what pisses me off is the evidence that people lack basic reasoning skills when it comes to arranging themselves in a small place. Sometimes it’s a crowded class, and you’re just not going to have a lot of room. That’s fine. But sometimes people go stand in the most ridiculous spots so now some of us are squished together and the other half of the room could fit like five more people.

Last week I was getting particularly angry because there was a woman right behind me that was so close I had to watch my moves to avoid accidentally kicking/punching her in the face at points (although I kind of wanted to). The kicker was that there was enough space between her and the woman behind her that if one of my tall friends was lying on the floor, there would still be room between them (that’s the only way I can really conceptualize distance). So let’s call that over six feet of space. Did it ever occur to this woman to back up?? No, and in fact with some songs she kept inching ever closer.

But at the end of the routine when we do our strength training there’s always more room, and I have time to calm down. Despite how easy it is to get angry at people and hold on to that anger, it’s so much better for you to let it go. Some of these people are actually really nice, and there is absolutely no benefit to being angry.

3. Everyone Has a Thing

When I reached my 150 classes in October, I excitedly texted a good chunk of my friends and family.  My mom responded with “who would have ever thought you would become an exercise fanatic!” My dad makes similar statements all the time when he calls and I’m like “just leaving jazzercise” or “need to head to my jazzercise class now.”

The thing is, I hate exercising. When my parents tried to get me to exercise when I was younger it was like pulling teeth. Actually harder, because I’ve had a lot of teeth pulled and it’s not that bad of a process.

And even now, when I can’t jazzercise for whatever reason, I don’t workout. I think I should but I can’t make myself do it. But I love jazzercise. It’s my thing. I didn’t think I’d ever find a workout I’d love but there you go. Don’t get me wrong, there are days when I’m too lazy or hungover or unmotivated and I skip class, but overall I think I’m doing a fabulous job with it, and it’s all because I love it so.

2. It Matters Who You’re With

Did you know they’ve done studies that found if you hang around with people that are generally unhappy your happiness goes down as well? It’s too early in the morning for me to find one of those studies, but trust me I’ve read that somewhere.

Who you’re with can play a big role in your attitude and behavior. With jazzercise, I’ve found this particularly true when it comes to the instructors. Even when they’re doing the same routine some of the instructors are a little more enthusiastic than others. They do the high intensity moves pretty much the entire time, and they are freaking HIGH intensity. There are others that do the same song but do it a little more casual.

I’ve found that I always get a better workout with the higher intensity instructors. It doesn’t seem to matter that I realize when the instructor is doing a lighter version, I go along with it. The only exception is when there are other people in the class (that I can see) that are still doing very high intensity.

One of the things they say a lot in jazzercise is that we go to class so we can workout together and motivate each other. This is absolutely true. I apparently am only as committed to the workout at the people around me. I probably should use this knowledge to make myself do the high intensity moves no matter what, but I use it more as a life lesson. I am now trying to surround myself with people that genuinely make me happy, and not people that bring me down.

1. You Can’t Please Everyone

Thank god jazzercise emphasizes this to me so much, because I absolutely need to remember it at all times. With jazzercise, I realized the truth of this statement when I started traveling and hitting a large variety of instructors.

You see, I have my favorites. There are some that I’ve had multiple times that I think are really nice people, but I don’t like their style. However, I’ve heard other people in the class say the same individual is their favorite instructor. There are different things I take into consideration – the intensity level, what they say during the routine, whether they emphasize certain moves that people typically get wrong, etc. There was one instructor that drove me insane because during leg routines she just yelled “get lower!” at us again and again no matter how low we went. There was another the other day that kept telling us to breathe through the nose, and that annoyed me (and also seemed weird since then literally five days later another instructor was yelling that we needed to breathe through the mouth).

The point is, as I’ve discussed multiple times with a friend, people like different things. Certain types of instructors resonate with me better. The reason this is so key for me to remember is that I too often fall in the trap of thinking EVERYONE should like me. When I used to train customers at work, I was devastated by every bad review. Let’s not even talk about how I now have a complex about my voice after a few complaints about it.

I realize this every time I jazzercise and I think I should really learn to keep it in mind every single day. If I can’t please everyone, and I can’t, I think it should be more important to do what makes me happy than worry about what other people are going to think.

There are other little things that jazzercise helps me learn, but those are the big ones. At this point I know that when I don’t get to go to jazzercise for a long period, it makes me cranky. We’ll see how that plays out this week since there’s not really a class nearby.

When Rangers Make You Randy

Apparently the Green Ranger is coming to Austin in November for Comic Con! I found out a few weeks ago and I have been super excited. I may actually go. I say this not because I am against going to cons, but because as my friend Erin has already discussed we keep planning to go to Dragon Con and failing at it. But I think I’m legit going to make the Austin Comic Con happen, if for no other reason than the fact that the Green Ranger will be there.

Now I don’t talk about the Power Rangers as much as other things (like Vampire Diaries and jazzercise, which you’ve heard about many a time) but I have certainly mentioned them before. When the Power Rangers came out all the kids in my neighborhood fell in love with the show. We jostled over who got to be which ranger. Luckily this was when I was the alpha of the group (as opposed to later in the days of the Spice Girls when my friend Bri was alpha and we had to follow her rulings) so I got dibs on the Pink Ranger.

If you aren’t familiar with the Power Rangers, it was a group of teenagers that were given special coins that allowed them to “morph” into ninja warriors that also had “zords” which were basically like giant machines they used to fight giant monsters. It was rather ingenious that the teenagers weren’t born special but got their powers from an outside source, so they could easily switch out characters when necessary.

Initially there were 5 rangers – Red, Pink, Yellow, Blue, and Black. Pink and Yellow were girls (duh), Red was the leader, and in a racist twist that was delightfully overlooked the first year the Yellow Ranger was Asian, and the Black Ranger was African American.

I loved the Pink Ranger, Kimberly. She was pretty, a gymnast, and of course at the time seemed powerful and in control. Like the other rangers, she wore her color at all points, so she was always wearing some wonderful 90s fashion in pink. I fully blame this show for the disaster that was my pink bedroom. Pink walls, pink carpets… and I was stuck with it for YEARS.

Anyway, Tommy Oliver, the Green Ranger, showed up in season 1 but was initially a bad guy. He was from a rival school or something, was just as good as the Red Ranger in martial arts (oh did I forget to mention they all know martial arts? Power Rangers is also to blame for all the kids that suddenly decided they needed to do karate, which includes my brother), and so Rita Repulsa made him her evil minion.

MEANWHILE, there was all sorts of tension between him & Kimberly despite him being a bad guy. Eventually Tommy became a good guy, and later he became the White Ranger and was the new leader of the gang. Kimberly and Tommy were an adorable couple, and all was right in the world. 

Seriously, tell me you didn't want that back in the day

Tommy Oliver was my first fictional character crush. Actually now that I think of it, Power Rangers is probably also to blame for my previously discussed problem where I habitually prefer bad guys/guys that are kind of dicks. Huh, apparently Power Rangers is almost solely responsible for all the problems in life. Don’t let that stop you from watching it though! If I had the original seasons I’d watch that in a hot second. As it is I frequently turn to the Power Rangers movie when I need an emotional boost.

But anyway, the Green Ranger was like girl fantasy candy. He was hot, strong, evil, but seemed to have hints of good because of his feelings for Kimberly. Even when he became good he was witty, dependable, protective, and still super sexy.

I didn’t realize how deeply Power Rangers was embedded in my subconscious until the other day when my friend tried to pull his hair into a ponytail, reminded me vaguely of the Green Ranger, and all of a sudden I was like !!!!!!!!!

They say you always remember your first love. Maybe you always remember your first fictional crush as well. I should probably figure out if I’ve been unconsciously trying to find a guy like the Green Ranger and that’s half my problem, but that can wait for another retrospective lazy weekend.

The Cult of Jazzercise

It’s been especially frustrating for me the past 2 months that I haven’t been able to jazzercise as much as I want. It’s probably not helping my stress levels. I’m going to be lucky to hit 10 classes for August. Freaking ridiculous.

At this point of life, I like to joke to my friends that I only talk about 2 things: The Vampire Diaries and jazzercise. You’ve probably already noticed The Vampire Diaries obsession. I’ve mentioned jazzercise a few times before… here, and there, and everywhere. But finally, it’s time to explain the obsession.

You see the thing is I totally drank the Kool-Aid. I bought into jazzercise, and now I continuously try to recruit others. I’ve made my mom go jazzercise when she visits me. I almost had my friend Baby Kevin talked into trying it, but then we were busy/hungover during the class time.

This is utterly shocking because I DO NOT like exercise. Seriously. Not at all. I remember back in the day in high school there was some sort of test we took where it would determine your best love matches in the school (which by the way I also remember that mine sucked). One of the questions was “how often do you exercise?” I tried to say 1-2 times a week because otherwise I felt lazy, and every reprimanded me because that was a huge lie.  It would be more realistic to say that for 1 or 2 weeks out of a year I was really good and worked out maybe 3 times a week, but the rest of the year I did absolutely nothing.

I continued this behavior in college. Actually I may have been the least fit of my college roommates, because they would work out consistently for a few weeks, and I always tapped out at like week 2. I just see no point to exercising. You get all sweaty and disgusting, it doesn’t feel good, and it’s boring.

Now I had a year after college where I did slightly better. What happened is that I decided to go on a cruise with a bunch of friends, and I figured I should look half decent in a swimsuit. I was successful because I didn’t go to the gym, instead I danced or jogged around the house, and because I tied exercising to my pepsi intake. I made some rule where if I didn’t exercise every other day I wasn’t allowed to have my daily pepsi or something similar. Once we got back from the cruise and I gave up pepsi, that pretty much fell apart.

So how did I end up an absurd jazzercise enthusiast?

When I moved to Austin I decided to go to a jazzercise class because I thought it would be a good way to meet people. I was pleasantly surprised to realize jazzercise is FUN. As I continued to go, I discovered more benefits. Because it combines cardio and weight exercises, you can burn calories (if you believe in that sort of thing) and also sculpt your muscles.

There are 2 questions I always hear from people when I talk about jazzercise, which if I answer now will clear up some common misconceptions:

1. Is there actually jazz music?

Normally no. The routines are set to a variety of music, but think more top 10 than jazz. Right now some of the routines are to “Get Lucky” by Daft Punk, “My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark” by Fall Out Boy, and “Treasure” by Bruno Mars.

2. Do you do jazz hands?

Sometimes, yes. There are songs where they tell us to do jazz hands. But not as often as you might think.

Basically how jazzercise works is that the first 30ish minutes are cardio. There are set routines to different songs. The instructor can choose the songs, and there are some things they do slightly differently in a routine, but otherwise it’s the same.

Once the cardio portion is over, we move on to the strength training. These are a few songs, typically involving weights, a tube, a mat, or an exercise ball, that hit certain muscle groups. Normally there are 2 leg songs, 1 for arms, 1 for abs, and then an ending song. This is the area that gets switched up the most. There are songs that combine muscles (like both legs and abs or arms and legs). Some instructors do more arms and less legs. As we approached summer one of my favorite instructors made us always do 2 abs songs. So this is where you normally get more variety.

It’s hard to explain what makes jazzercise different. You have to try it. Everyone is so welcoming. I tend to hit different jazzercise locations when I travel, and it’s always a really great experience. When people think I’m “new” they are so sweet and make sure I know where everything is and how it works.

There’s no judging in jazzercise. When you mess up (and everyone does at some point) you laugh it off. The instructors always say as long as you’re moving you’re fine.

Plus the instructors are amazing. Now I have my favorites, and by no means is anyone perfect. I’m always mentally comparing styles in my head (I feel like I want to make a scorecard of jazzercise instructors someday). But they keep it fun, and they are so encouraging. They take the time normally to greet new people and they’re always available to answer any questions.

And the thing is now that I jazzercise regularly, I do feel a difference. I feel stronger. I feel healthy. I feel empowered. And I feel like I need my jazzercise “me time” so I don’t get angry at the stupid people of the world.  

Happier than Dracula Volunteering at a Blood Drive

Because I'm obsessed with TVD.

My mother and I are both easily amused. We love the movie Zoolander, like all the awesome new toys for kids, and are prone to having laughing fits in public places (typically department stores for my mother, and really just about anywhere for me). I’ve always considered this a positive trait. When things aren’t great, it helps to be easily amused. Sure, awesome spring rolls, mini gummy bears, and my favorite commercial may only provide momentary happiness, but you take what you can get.

Yesterday I was just describing my favorite commercial to a friend. It’s the Geico commercial with the blood drive. And aptly enough, it reminded me that today is World Blood Donor Day, which I decided I want to talk about.

I have very complicated emotions around donating blood. I think it’s a great thing to do. While I appreciate when everyone bands together and donates after some sort of disaster leaves the banks a little low, I am mildly annoyed that more people don’t donate more often. My friend Erin talked last year about being a good citizen. Well at some point I’m going to take that a step further to just being a good person, and I think donating blood and other such things is tied to that.

Now, having just said that, I must confess I haven’t donated blood in YEARS.

I used to donate fairly regularly. I actually had two separate donor cards as I donated both at home and in a different area when I was at college. I was never as awesome as my friend Kevin and asked to donate extra amounts at once, but that’s probably to be expected as I’m tinier and certainly not the healthiest person in the world.

Donating blood for me is very similar to how some people feel about the gym. I hated the experience, but I liked feeling good about it afterwards. Oh, and how I hated the experience. It’s not just the whole “there’s-a-freaking-needle-in-your-arm-thing” (although I don’t like needles, and sometimes they wouldn’t cover it so I’d be sitting there staring at this needle poking out of my arm… ick). It took FOREVER and a half. Seriously. I’m not even talking about the lines. Sometimes I’d go with other people. We’d all be in the same place in line. We’d all make it onto the cots around the same time. They’d finish, and get to go have a snack. I’d have to sit there and watch until finally 10-20 minutes later I was done. This is not even an exaggeration. My blood apparently refused to fill the bag at a normal rate.

Luckily it’s hardly ever the same workers, so they didn’t realize the problem was me. They kept checking the bag, and the line, convinced something was broken. I just sat there and looked innocent.

I prepped for days in order to give blood. Since sometimes I had some trouble passing the anemia test, before a blood drive I’d chow down on vitamins and extra meat. I’d drink fluids out the wazoo. I made sure I had clothing that either exposed my arms or was easy to move out of the way.

Then during college I ran into my first serious issue. I was giving blood and it was actually going pretty quickly. It looked like I might even be done near normal person time. I was sitting there pretty thrilled with myself, when all of a sudden I realized I was about to pass out. I was hot, my vision was blackening, and there was a loud buzzing in my ears. I tried to alert the person and I suppose I was successful, but I couldn’t tell you what I said because everything seemed to slow and my words were incomprehensible.

A bit later, I woke up. Sure enough I had passed out. Not afterwards, mind you. Not walking over to the snack station. Nope, lying there in the midst of giving blood I had passed out. Even better, apparently I hadn’t woken up right away. No, apparently several minutes and quite a lot of cold water was involved before they could get me conscious. My person was totally freaked out. They basically told me they couldn’t use my blood to donate but instead would use it for testing purposes, because something had to be wrong with me.

It’s unclear what exactly the first issue was. After this experience I felt horrible for a few days. I almost passed out again every time I had to go to one of my classes on the 4^th floor. I slept like mad. I didn’t really feel like myself again until about a month later, and eventually the decision was I had some sort of virus.

So a few months later I tried giving blood again.

Now since we had decided I was sick for the last fiasco, I was mildly nervous but not too bad. My blood was going slow as usual which seemed like a good sign. Then wouldn’t you know it, I started getting dizzy, losing vision, and became crazy hot. Luckily this time my person was able to spin me around and start holding cold cloths to my face before I actually passed out. It was a close thing. And again, this was during the donation process, not afterwards. This time there was a new fun problem as well. As I started to feel better, they realized no new blood was going into the bag. Apparently my blood clotted in the tube or something and they couldn’t get anymore out.

I decided to give it one more attempt when I was back home. Granted I didn’t actually pass out, but it took somewhere between a half hour and forty minutes before they gave up on getting a full bag of blood out of me, and I could barely walk for the rest of the day.

Sooooo…… I’m kinda nervous to try again.

It’s been years since these experiences, and we all know I’m much healthier now! I’m eating somewhat better, and I jazzercise more than a sane person probably should. Considering I’m 0+ (for those not in the know, people with 0- are more awesome than me, but I out-awesome everyone else) I feel like it’s my duty to try again. But to be safe I probably shouldn’t drive myself there, and being me, I don’t really want to ask someone else to drive me either.

You can see why I have unresolved issues over this. I want to donate, but I don’t want to be half-dead because of it. I want to encourage people to donate since it’s World Blood Donor Day, but that seems hypocritical. Maybe I’ll celebrate by just watching my favorite commercial again. Every time it finally reveals the vampire volunteer I just cackle. Ahh… good times.

The Day the Metabolism Died

“We're women. There is nothing above bottoms on the crisis scale. Bottoms are our natural enemy.”

-Sally Harper, Coupling

Today is Gorgeous Grandma Day, and you know how I love me some random holidays. Today I want to start by talking about my grandmother on my mother’s side. She was totally a dish back in the day. Obviously I didn’t know her back then, but I’ll say that she looks like quite a bit of a vixen too. I’d bet you $5 she would have had you wrapped around her finger and begging to carry out her every wish. Of course she probably was also a bit of a tease, as she’ll tell anyone sitting with her no matter what age range that she hates sex. Does not like it. No thank you, sir.

Anyway, so not only was my grandma super sexy back in the day, she aged really well. I would never dare to say her actual age (I want to live!) but she has always looked much younger. And this despite a totally unhealthy diet avoiding all the essential things doctors think you need. Go, Grandma!

Of course, as much as I wish for this genetic legacy, I’m pretty sure it’s going to skip me and go to my brother. The lucky duck. But he has far more of the other traits from that side of the family than I do. Including the butt. Yes, the butt.

My mother’s side of the family tends more towards voluptuousness. These are all hot, curvy, sexalicious women. Now for some of us it’s more bust. For some, like my mother, it’s all in the rear. My mother has quite a butt on her. And when she was a young, sexy thang, she showed it off. Short shorts, boots, and dresses that are ridiculously short. This is why over the years she’s earned nicknames like Buns and Mrs. Lumpy Bottom.

My father loves to tease her about her butt. Being impressionable children at one point and then turning to habit, my brother and I totally picked it up too. My dad sometimes hinted that I might expect the same thing to happen when I got older, but genetics loved me for once, and while I got a little butt at some point, I never got a rear quite like my mother’s. But to my endless delight, MY BROTHER DID!!

Yes, it’s as funny as it sounds. Sadly, I can’t find a really super awesome photo to demonstrate, but here is one example. My brother is to the left. Even in this picture you can see the curvature. Notice the huge difference from the random person on the right with saggy jeans, the guy norm. My brother’s got some junk in the trunk. Baby got back. And it is GROWING. This is an older picture. I’m fairly certain his butt is larger now.

I spent years cackling over this fact of life and telling almost anyone I knew about my brother’s butt. Unfortunately, I think karma caught up to me.

You see, in the past month or so I’ve become convinced that my butt is starting to get bigger.

Love this show.

Seriously, it's awesome.

Just to clarify, I am NOT one of those girls that constantly obsesses over their behind, like Sally from Coupling. My butt isn’t too big, or too small. It’s just there, so I ignored it. I didn’t dress to show it off, I didn’t worry about it looking too large.

All of a sudden though my clothes started fitting differently. I pulled out pants that used to fit fine, and now they’re unduly tight in the derriere region. I throw on skirts I used to love, and the hem’s a little too close to my unmentionables for comfort. Even my underwear is fitting differently.

But it’s a subtle change. That’s the problem. I’m not entirely sure if my butt is really larger, or if it’s all in my mind. After all, I hardly look at the thing. I don’t have it memorized. Maybe it was always that size. Maybe my dryer went rogue and shrunk all my clothes. I keep asking people I know if they’ve looked at my butt before and can verify, but they just think I’m crazy (story of my life).

There’s a legitimate reason for why I need to know if it’s getting bigger. I need to identify the cause.

See, I jazzercise now. Someday I might do a whole jazzercise post, but let me just say it’s amazing, and I love it. My tummy is firmer, my thighs are becoming bricks, and I have arm muscles for the first time in my entire life. So my cute lil bum should NOT be getting larger. Unless it’s muscle, which is what people have suggested. I think it might be perkier, but is it muscle?? I can't tell.

In which case, is this a sign that my metabolism has finally started to die!?!

This is what I need to know – the state of my metabolism. This is crucially important to my continued existence.

I’m not saying I have the best metabolism in the world. It wouldn’t win gold medals. However, my metabolism is totally a beast. I’ve never been super skinny, but on the plus side I’ve never been plus size, which I completely owe to my metabolism. Until jazzercise this year, I didn’t work out regularly. I disdained physical activity.

Not to mention the things I eat fairly often would probably cause someone with a normal metabolism to gain 5 pounds in 5 seconds.

Don’t believe me? Ok well, let’s give some concrete examples. I will eat cheese sticks (the fried kind, not that stupid string cheese stuff) several days in a row. I once ate enough icecream in a single sitting to give my tongue (mild) frostbite. Now that I’m older and trying to be slightly healthy, I limit myself to only a half pound of bacon at once. Yeah.

So if this is a sign of the times, and my metabolism is starting to die off, I need to know STAT. Then I might have to do crazy things like limiting how much I eat and believing in calories. Oh the horror… I’m not ready for this. I’m too young! I have too much to live for!!