Trying to find a balance between Jim Beam & Jesus

balance

This week’s InfoNews column is all about trying to find balance in life. Which, if you’ve ever seen me walk in my Jeffrey Campbell Litas, IS KIND OF MY THING. Unfortunately, balancing in life is a little different than in heels . . . so I’m learning.

You can read it HERE!

Also, if you missed my last post about re-integrating myself into real life now that I have a day job again because I was too busy doing my day job to post it (LIKE A CHUMP), you can read that HERE.

XOYW1

How I tell my anxiety to F OFF

R Munch

This week’s InfoNews post is up and it’s all about normalcy and anxiety and looking panic in the face and telling it to shove it. I wrote this column last week, but it feels extra poignant now after the passing of Robbin Williams. Some demons are bigger than others, and sometimes making light of them is the best we can do for ourselves. You can read it HERE.

You’re only given a little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it

XOYW1

What you miss out on if you wear sweatpants

liz

When my brother called me at 11PM to come and pick him up from an hour away, I was lying in bed with a glass of wine in the dark, scrolling through Pinterest, trying desperately to put myself to sleep.

It was Friday.

I mention that only because it’s adorable to picture me, at 11PM on a Friday, trying to lullaby myself to sleep in a pair of sweatpants over pictures of small apartment spaces decorated flawlessly.

“Yes,” I said, “I’ll come.”

Hair a mess, flannel shirt buttoned unevenly, fluffy socks, the whole nine yards. No one would see me. I would go as is.

But something stopped me just as I was about to walk out the door. It was a primal instinct that said Andria, put on real pants, k?

I know, right? How dare my instincts be so judgmental. I can wear sweats out to White Rock in the middle of the night if I want to. But I changed my pants, because everyone knows you have to listen to your gut. I put on black skinny jeans and motorcycle boots. Because that was the most comfortable option I had other than my 10 year old high school sweatpants.

I drove an hour with a wedgie. I had changed my pants but I hadn’t changed my sweatpant-worthy underwear.

When I arrived at the venue, my brother got into the vehicle high on life. He had just finished playing the (epic?) “Raise a Little Hell” with the (oldie but goodie) band Trooper. He was in no mood to go home.

Instead, we went to the casino. A place I was not dressed for, but would at least be permitted inside of.

We had a beer. We played (and lost) some penny slots. Then we put $10 on black and we won.

I HAVE NEVER WON ON BLACK BEFORE.

Granted, $20 wasn’t anything to write home about, but I’ll tell you what it was worth . . . it was worth getting out of sweatpants for.

Sometimes, despite our best efforts, we don’t want to put in our best effort. We want to slum around. We want to stay pimply and chubby. We want to keep picking our nose, even though there’s someone beside us at the red light. We want to go to sleep without brushing our teeth. We want to wear our bitch-face on the subway. Sometimes, no matter what our head wants us to do, we say no. And it’s in times like this we must remember Elizabeth Taylor’s famous words.

Pour yourself a drink, put on some lipstick, and pull yourself together.

Hey, it might make you ten bucks.

XOYW1

The Full Ninety — it’s the new full monty

Celibacy_NAT

This weeks InfoNews column is up and it’s all about why you should be celibate for a bit. HAHA! Kidding. It’s about why some people should be celibate for a bit. Not you, you stud. You can read it HERE.

XOYW1

Why you should say yes to saying no

just dont do it

This week’s InfoNews column is up and it’s all about screaming “NO” like a two-year-old when you don’t want to do something. And why that’s totally OK. If that sounds like something you need to hear, you can read it by clicking THIS.

Also, after almost 4 years of blogging I just decided to join bloglovin . . . so if that’s your thing, you can click the drawing of the naked girl in the right hand column.

XOYW1

How To Exercise Without Exercising

 

dance party 1

I don’t work out. You know this based on my posts like THIS. & because I just wrote a column defending the muffin top.

Yes, I am fully aware of how Mean Girls that makes me sound. I’m also aware of my heart’s health (or non-health?), and my non-six pack. It’s just that I really hate it — it’s boring and you can’t do it in heels. Those are pretty much the only two conditions I have for my life. If it’s boring and I can’t do it in heels, I’m out.

I run sometimes. Mostly as an excuse to wear Lulu lemons and listen to Eddie Money really loud on repeat.

And yeah, you know me, lots of times I go through these fit-spurts where I’m all “YEAH, GREEN JUICE AND SQUATS MOTHER FUCKER!” but that only lasts until someone puts a wheel of Brie in front of me and that person is usually me and it’s usually only one day after I’ve decided to try and qualify for the Boston Marathon.

So, a month ago when I told a friend I’d run this hometown 10k on the 27th of April, I was obviously on Day Zero of a fit-spurt. Since then, I’ve been eating a lot of brie and worrying about how I’m going to not die when the 27th rolls around.

This morning, in a moment of delusion, I decided to test the waters. The last time I ran 10k was this time last year — since then I’ve probably jogged 12 times.

(What’s that? Once a month? That’s pretty good, right?!)

Anyway, I went for a run. And you know what? I ran 6 clicks like it wasn’t no thang.

WTF, right? I wasn’t even panting. I was just all “IF I COULD WALK ON WATER, IF I COULD FIND SOME WAAAAY TO PROOOOVE …

It was bizarre. Until I put two and two together and realized I actually have been exercising this entire time, I just didn’t look at it that way.

You see, I am a vigorous living-room-dance-party haver. Especially when I have other things I should be doing. & I don’t mean I have dance parties like … romantic comedy cute, either. I mean go all out flailing and stuff to “Bette Davis Eyes.” My heart rate gets UP.

I made a GIF to prove it. (Yes, obviously I’m singing into an empty bottle of wine.)

http___makeagif.com__media_4-15-2014_zLdjiY

I guess what I’m trying to say is . . . all you need to do to get in shape is a couple hundred hair flips to some really hardcore 80’s songs. And I didn’t want to keep that information to myself.

Suns out, guns out amiright?!

Kisses, Hugs & You’re Welcome (xo & yw)