I Got 99 Problems...

Y'all know I've been out of the dating game for a long time. Long as in "All Star" by Smash Mouth was actually a new & cool song and iPods didn't even exist (true story). Because of this, I've had a hard time offering dating advice to friends, particularly female, on how John & I "make it work." For one, I really can't explain it; we set our own rules, play by them, and adapt as best as we can in the circumstance. Secondly, I unfortunately know full well that some chics are simply doomed for a life of dating turmoil. I know all girls are made up of sugar, spice, and everything illogical & unexplainable in the world (gotta love us!), but there are the special females who should either give up and join the nunnery or only commit themselves to the men who can put up with them: Jack (Daniels), Jim (Beam), and Jose (Cuervo). We all know the cheaters, the liars, and the freaker-outers, but these shining examples listed below are the ones we just don't know how to handle...

.::"Wedding Crashers"; New Line Cinema::.

[Side note: I take that back. "All Star" was never a cool song.]

1. The Chameleon

I know when you start investing in a significant other, you need to learn to appreciate one another's interests; at least, show a little support, even if you know you're never going to understand it. But no need to get all ridic'lous. I've seen some girls completely alter their brain pattern to be as obsessive of their new partner's hobbies and lifestyle as they are. Stupid bands, weird sports, crappy football teams... OH. And the best part is when she comes up to you and acts like YOU'RE the freak for not knowing (or caring) who and what she's talking about:
"Ugh. WHAT do you mean you've never heard of Stankpot Emo Chum? They're ONLY the most influential band in the funk-and-accordion genre. Whatever, I have to go make Crisco-fried-peanut-butter-jelly nachos for _insert name here_. It's his faaaavorite and we're going to watch the Banana Slugs game."

What's sad is most of the time he hardly acknowledges her interests on any level -- but why should he when she's so willing to push her own aside? Boys are NOT very observant, so we girls have to learn to speak up and be direct (and not gonna lie, it takes more than one time). Or, maybe, your friend has actually been boring all along and he did her a favor by engaging her in, well, something.

2. The One-Degree of "Kevin Bacon"

Homegirl cannot SHUT. UP. about her boyfriend ("Kevin Bacon"). Every conversation you have with this girl somehow always winds up with some stupid story about something uninteresting related to her "KB." You find it almost amazing that the conversation can be about something completely and totally NOT what would normally make you think of your beau, but she can ALWAYS bring the conversation back around to being about her and her boyfriend issues/stories. Cancer, Nazi-occupied Germany, diarrhea? She's got just the retort! And while it usually seems only-kinda-sorta related to the initial topic at first, when you finally make the connection yourself, it's like you just figured out a master level Sudoku. Im-pressive.

3. The Karate Kid: "Sex On-Sex Off"

These girls are EXHAUSTING. Listen, I know we live in a modern world where "we don't use labels," but the truth is: we're humans and we all like things defined in some way or another. (ESPECIALLY those who have to put up with you.) I really REALLY don't understand "on again, off again" relationships. I think the only thing more illogical in the world is how people don't understand eating fast food twice a day makes you a lard-ass, and I have no sympathy for those people either. If your relationship isn't working now, some magical set of circumstances that you think will be bestowed on you aren't going to make life easier and your relationship better. And GUESS WHAT? They're not gonna happen. If you're not 100% sure you're at least willing to give it what you got and make it work now, it's not going to change by next month. And who knows what opportunities you've missed out on because you're so preoccupied with the "maybe" -- perhaps your real "twu wuv"? You know you don't like it, your friends don't like it... NOBODY LIKES IT. So grow up and make up your mind, or shut up because I really don't have time to keep up with your relationship status that changes more than your Facebook one... and are just as lame, too.

4. The "I Really Believe Life Works Like a Crappy WB Show"

{Drama drama DRAMA.} The type that purposely puts themselves in ridiculous dating situations that only result in chaos and heartache, just so they have something interesting to talk about. They spend way too much time trying to be a general stereotype of a "20 something finding their way through life." With weird clothes. Oh, the fashion! The drama! The never-ending saga of finding true love! Honey, this ain't L.A. Your conversations aren't witty. EVERYTHING ISN'T ALWAYS A BIG FREAKIN' DEAL. Hey - put your energy towards something better than bs-ing about your latest "scenario" to your equally annoying friend, and for crying out loud, pick up a copy of New York Times instead of Cosmo once in a while.

5. The Paris Hilton

Similar to our "WB special" lady and the opposite of #1, this chic, too, has some serious mental detachments from reality. Aside from the fact she honestly believes the world revolves around her and anyone who makes less than seven digits is one of the "poor people," she treats her man like a little purse pooch = dressing them up, prancing them around, making them do generally demeaning and embarrassing things because, like, she said so. She's the classic prototype of "hot" - good bod, lots of perfectly applied make-up, got her hur did, and three closets full of designer labels - so you get why the guy sticks around (the same shallow people hang out in the same shallow cesspools...). Although, you hope he's done his cost-benefit analysis to see if his contributions to her luxurious tastes are compensated accordingly. YES, my friends, you can put a price tag on love.

6. The Mooch

Girl is HONGRAY and doesn't have a car. Otherwise "breaking up" means she won't get her Friday night Chinese and will have to take the bus to school. She can entertain her man (and his willy parts) long enough until she decides to make something of herself -- or finds somebody with more money and less brains. Settling? Nah, she's an opportunist!

7. The Needy Damsel

She's helpless. Whiney. Totally incapable. Whether spoiled and incompetent because of a cushy upbringing or because she was deprived of oxygen those first few precious moments of life, you can't understand how she reeled in a man when EZ Mac launches her into an anxiety attack. Listen, I know there are times John has come to my rescue and my hour of need was taking it's toll. But the lady in distress act is so 1895 and NOT COOL anymore. The sad part is when it might not be an act, and this girl truthfully and painfully is doomed to wander life as a giant 6-year-old. You want to feel bad for her that she'll never be a functioning adult... and maybe homeboy likes being the hero? Whatever. That doesn't stop you from researching ways to make sure that she'll NEVER procreate.

8. The Sugar Rush

You know the type. She's similar to your bratty cousin at Christmas parties, jumping around all jacked up on hot chocolate and those 'effin sugar cookies with icing AND more colored sugar sprinkles. Only instead of sugar, your friend is jacked up on the feeling of looove. Same as your bratty cousin, she has to tell you EVERYTHING you don't give a rat's craphole about -- and does so at about 400 miles an hour. You're exhausted after the first 45 seconds of listening to her go on about all the "romantic" stuff he does, the presents she's showered with, and the cutesy nonsense of their boring hobbies... and you keep looking for an excuse to find a way out. BUT THERE IS NONE. So you sit there, hoping your cranberry-vodka kicks in really quickly. Of course, it doesn't, and you don't a single word in the whole time, AND you're praying Bigfoot walks by outside so she'll get distracted. Finally, after 30min of mentally gauging your eyes out and covered in word vomit, she stops -- suddenly. She stares. Stares bigger. BIGGER. Aaaaand: "OMGILOVEHIMSOMUUUUUCH!... Well. Look at the time, it was nice seeing you, glad to hear you're doing well!" And as quickly as she came in, she's gone. And here comes the vodka buzz. (**Note: This is about 12 times more horrible if she's newly engaged. God help us all.)

9. The Parasite

You've successfully survived the complicated process of getting your pal to drop the loser she wasted too many tears and good outfits on. You get her to start coming back into a normal existence and moving forward to a healthy single life, only to find out days later she's ready to get back in the dating game... and has already begun "talking" to someone. Okay, you tell yourself, he can't be as big a tool bag as the last punk. WRONG! This girl simply can't function without "being taken." Being single means she'll wither and shrivel from lack of emotional nutrition; she feeds on the psychological attachment of anyone who gives her some kind of doting and attention. Not only is it frustrating because you have to sit there and put up with his fake hard-guy accent or crappy smelling cologne and use of limited grammar, but you know your friend can do better. You know your friend needs to get her own life in order before she can allow herself a better dude. But then you remember she's BFF with girl #4, and your attempts to have her realize her own hopes and dreams starts to make you sound scarily like Maury. So you put up with it, waiting patiently until either she discovers her own unique potential or at least finds a "nice young man" who can help her do so.

10. The HOW DOES SHE EVEN HAVE A BOYFRIEND?

This is the girl responsible for every single overplayed Taylor Swift song (NEWSFLASH: That's all of them.) She's sullen, mean, and demanding; she's self-absorbed, says French words (incorrectly) to sound cool, and is ungrateful; she's needy, clingy, and whines a lot; she's self-righteous, never wrong, and never compromising; she's dumb, inattentive, and flaky; she's drunk, sloppy, and smells. SHE WEARS HEAD TO TOE ABERCROMBIE & FITCH. Generally, you feel bad for the poor chump of a man who would rather have perpetual fungal infection than be stuck with this crazy broad. But then you wonder what he must've done in a past life to deserve this, or maybe he feels like showing her love and attention will make her a better person? Maybe he's just terrified she'll whip out her crazy b**ch wand and bludgeon him should he try to leave. For whatever reason, you put up with her, because you know your sweet but simple-minded friend sees something in her... and maybe, just maybe, you'll find out why someday yourself. (But in the meantime, you can still look for opportunities to put laxatives in her overpriced, frou-frou coffee drink... or PBR, depending).

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Maybe I'm old-school. Maybe I'm some sort of "special" and no one's told me (which explains a lot why some people talk very slow at me...).

Relationships are complicated, I get that. Life is tough and stupid, but your perspectives on situations and not taking Life's crap are what get you through at the end of the day (and of course, bourbon helps). If your significant other isn't willing to hold your hand and charge wildly into the terror of the unknown, or at the very least help make a plan about how to do so, you're wasting your time. Part of a healthy, honest, and poetically deep relationship is deciding what you want as a couple and supporting each other through the black holes and the Cloud 9's. It's NOT easy. But it's so worth it.

Point blank: Our basic philosophy is that John and I try to be good, honest, productive, and positive people in society no matter what our relationship is with others. We try to bring those qualities out in each other. Respect and communication goes a long way. A sense of humor is essential. And sharing a love of good food and wine is highly recommended.

[I think relationship rants are the best. What irks you about the "modern dating" complex plaguing our society?]

Blogging Trends as Cool as Mom Jeans.

As I've recently given up the Book of Face (see below) and started paying attention more to my blog, I've discovered I'm a little less "with it" than I realized in the world of online journaling. What have I noticed, you asked?

1. There seems to be a new trend to have a bagillion "followers" of your blog. Now I "follow" several blogs and get updated posts all, all nice and tidy, pooled onto one webpage so I can stay up on people's bid'ness. I love getting to "know" new and interesting cyber peeps, and frankly it's been a big comfort to know there are creative individuals with similar thoughts and who can actually write with some substance (humanity isn't at a total loss yet!). But I keep getting requests from folks who haven't even actually, I dunno, READ my blog... and somehow expect I'll turn around and be BFF (blog friends fuh-eva). Listen, I'm not trying to be the next Bieber of the blogging world. My readers (that's you. like RIGHT NOW!) are awesome, and I'm not sure I want narcissistic crackpots trying to be all up in my grill anyways. And I certainly don't want to be in theirs.

2. WHY DO YOU POST ENDLESS PICTURES OF YOUR CHILDREN?! That's NOT safe!

In an experiment to see what other bloggers are doing and what's the new "format" for a "good" blog, I clicked that little button up top that says "Next Blog." I hit it multiple times and, I "kid" you not, of about 10 blogs I quick flipped through, 8-9 were all about one's kids. With LOTS of pictures. DO YOU KNOW WHO HAS ACCESS TO INTERNET?! Pedophiles! Terrorists! Sketchy politicians! I certainly wouldn't want multiple images of my widdle-wubby munchkins floating around... especially disclosing their age and any activities. I knooooow it's for families and such to keep up, I get that; but in a world approaching nearly 7 billion people, you don't know what freaks have the same chance of stumbling on your life with the click of a button.

And this is why I'll never be that mom posting pics of my kids:

I pull out the camera and they pull out the ridic'lousness.

3. Some people take their blogger profiles/"About Me" WAY too seriously. Get real. And for the love of Meatloaf, don't say you're a big fan of obvious things, like "eating" and "napping." Tell me one person who doesn't like to eat or nap, and we'll give THAT person a blog. Imagine the posts what would come out that delirium.

I was hoping the research would yield more inspiration for upgrades on my blog.

But really? I'm starting to think it's just fine.

And while I'm at it:

HAPPY SPRING!

I Give Up.

Because it's Lent!

It's almost been a week since the ashes were smudged across my forehead (I love puns!), and I've got just a little over six more weeks to go. Seeing that my sacrifices affect not only myself but also possibly those of you who have to put up with me on some regular basis (sorry, you can't give me up - HA!), I decided it was best to make you all aware of my Lenten offerings.

I'm pulling out all the stops on Lent 2011, so here goes!

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No red meat.

Yup, no hamburgers, no steak, no bacon, no BBQ, no jerky, no Chinese spare ribs. Yup, anything pork or beef is nixed from ye ol' daily menu. Yup, other questionable meats, like lamb, bison, and any creatures of the mysterious wilderness are also off the table (pun #2, ba-baay!)... I can't actually remember the last time I was in a situation with exotic choices, but just in case. Chicken, turkey, and seafood are all fair game, though I'm trying to eat as little meat as possible. And, of course, Fridays mean no meat at all.

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No chocolate.

Ahh, a grand Lenten tradition in my family, the no chocolate rule is fairly sacred. One time we tried giving up all sweets in general, and that got really weird really quickly: Does fruit count as sweets? Yogurt? Fancy spiced teas? Bubblegum? What if you're at a wedding or it's someone's birthday? Needless to say, scaling back and focusing on chocolate was pretty straight forward, and I'm amazed every year how much chocolate I typically consume on a weekly basis. I hid all what I currently have in a big bin in my cabinet, and I am SO looking forward to my Easter chocolate binge (and subsequent addition of five pounds to my butt).

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No Target.

I know - I KNOW! - what you're thinking. Weird! Crazy! Impossible! Yes friends, I did, and this is probably going to be the most difficult for me. It's such an easy excuse to say I need to go there for toiletries and the essentials just so I can wander through all the other sections "while I'm there." What almost always happens is I forget things on my "need" list and come out with plenty on my "I-convinced-myself-I-needed" list. I realized when I was justifying another pair of ridiculous(-ly) (cute!) heels or frou-frou smelling candles or pieces of jewelry that look JUST like something I already have... I needed to assess my not only my lack of responsible spending but also my inner material girl. Likewise, I live in a really tiny apartment, so even the small things add up quickly and I'm ironically easily upset by lots of unnecessary clutter. I'm embarrassed to say it got as bad as it did, but let's face it - we all have a "Target." Instead, I'm hoping to put the time and money I normally waste in there to something more productive. Or, at the very least, just saving it.

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No Facebook.

Another gasp! from many when I mention this, especially when I gave little warning to those that it was part of the plan; but it was another thing that was not only distracting, but it frequently added anxiety or general feelings of being overwhelmed. I mentioned most of the reasons for taking a FB hiatus in a previous post. Initially, it was just going to last through my spring break, which ended Sunday. However, in coming to terms with what Lent is all about - a season of soul searching and repentance - it felt appropriate to keep it up. I've actually enjoyed being detached and found that I'm way more aware of where my time is going. I'm also more aware of the people of whom I miss "seeing what they're up to," so I'm trying to be better about doing so without the convenience of hitting a "Like" button.

Honestly, the worst part about giving up Facebook has been giving up FB Scrabble. :(

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No fast food.

I'm usually a pretty avid boycotter of fast food; but every now and again I find myself exhausted after a 12 hr day and a spicy chicken sam'ich from my F-F establishment of choice, Chic-Fil-A, sounds a lot better than crummy Lean Cuisine or peanut butter & jelly (for the 3rd time that week). So, looks like I'm going to have to get over it or start making lots of new recipes to have on hand, such as the Desperate Shepherd's Wife Pie listed below.

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No cursing.

I take that back.

"No Target" is looking a lot easier.

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And there you have it. It sounds like a lot, but I've actually managed better than I thought I would when I sat in Ash Wednesday Mass contemplating my decisions. Overall, I can't really offer "alms" on my current budget, and participating in more charitable service is also a strain on my already very crazy schedule. Thus, I felt that I needed to sacrifice just a little bit more than normal.

But you had better believe come Easter morning I'll be eating a cheeseburger dipped in fudge whilst playing 12 different Scrabble games at a time.

Sitting in front of Target waiting for it to open.

Any Lenten words of wisdom or interesting things you've given up? Anything extra you're doing? I want to know!

Celia in the Kitchen: Desperate Shepherd's Wife Pie

**Just FYI: I had this post in the works for a while and was excited to finally put it on the ol' blog while I had a little spring break downtime. However, in light of today's earthquakes in Japan, I was hesitant. Not sure why, but I felt an honest guilt about posting something so silly... after debating with myself for a good while, I decided it was alright to continue. Not-posting won't make the situation better... and I use it as a testament that I'm grateful to have the opportunity to do so. My mind & heart is with Japan tonight. My hopes & prayers are, too.

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Let me just say: I am NOT a girl who can cook. Likes to cook, yes; I'm a mad scientist in the kitchen, throwing ingredients together with a chaotic hand and laughing insanely when my final creation smells and tastes perfectly devine. But when it becomes my latest failed experiment, it's usually a pretty epic fail. No, I reserve the title for a person "who can cook" for those that understand the science and methodology behind the magic of great food. Who take the time to measure accurately, to pour slowly, to whisk swiftly. To actually read the directions.

Me? I skim the recipe and list of ingredients, then I assess the skill level needed to complete it. Step two, I usually start writing in my own substitutions and convince myself that "I've got this!" From there, a trip to the grocery store and a prayer are all I need.

My latest venture:
DESPERATE SHEPHERD'S WIFE PIE

I LOVE shepherd's pie. It's one of the first recipes I mastered and has been a hit with the family for a long time (and with four brothers, I could make a lot for the ravenous heathens and things wouldn't get too complicated). In my quest to make things more healthy, I started searching around for some fresh takes on the old favorite. The winning inspiration came from here - but my spin on the spin is truly a new Celia classic. I was intrigued of using sweet potatoes instead of plain mashed potatoes, and there was one ingredient that definitely stood out: red wine. WHAT? Holy merlot, you gotta be kidding me?! Without hesitation, I printed the recipe and ran to Publix. The following tips for getting started this recipe are as follows:

- In glancing over the recipe with my grocery basket in hand, I realized it called for ground sirloin. Sirloin? Da-yum, the good stuff.... This shepherd must've been like the Kayne West of shepherding, rounding up sheep with wool made of gold. Nope, I think I'll stick my good old ground turkey (a favorite, healthier substitution). I like my shepherds to be peasants, and we're already getting carried away with the wine... moving on.

- Likewise, it also called for peas. And carrots. Listen, I can't read them together without thinking of a certain Tom Hanks film that still makes me cry every time I even mention it. (Minh, if you're reading this, thank you for that summer afternoon of frozen pizza and Forest Gump... it changed my life.) I simply wasn't crazy about adding "my tears" to the ingredient list. Also, I just really like my SP loaded with lots of good veggies, so I lucked out and found a bag of frozen (organic!) "stew blend" veggies: onions, green beans, corn, okra, lima beans... and yes, peas & carrots. And that's all I have to say about that.

- I typically make my SP topped with a sharp, shredded cheddar. Kind of sad this recipe didn't call for a cheesy top coat, I decided to get a bag of a reduced-fat parmesan/mozzarella blend just in case. The idea came from one of my favorite restaurants, Sesame, where they make THE most amazing sweet potato fries topped with grated parmesan.

- Lastly, it simply says "red wine." I'm a sucker for a good Cab, and I found one called Gingerberry with a spicy, peppery taste - figured it'd pair nicely with the sweet potatoes. (I found this hilarious review and this girl describes my sentiments exactly.)

- Okay, this post is already getting long enough. ON TO THE PHOTOS!

First, I browned the ground turkey and set aside. Next up, I added the veggies to the pan for a nice sauté with some butter and salt and pepper.

Mmm, steamy veggies.

Next up, I brought out the ingredients to mix with my bowl o' meat.
And then I re-read the recipe for the called measurement of wine...

WHAT? That's it?
You're kidding me, right?

Ch'yah. I'm "adding to taste" on this part...

Wait. What's that smell?

Whoops! Veggies getting a little too cooked.

Adds a rustic flavor though? Don't ya think?

So now that my meat is appropriately saturated and my veggies spiced with char, I mix them all up.

Uh. Yeah.

This better look A LOT better when it's done.

And it slooowly begins to resemble a hearty baked dish.

Another secret?

I cheated.

I knew I'd barely be able to stay focused long enough to wash/boil/peel/mash the sweet potatoes along with everything else (and having an open bottle of wine dangerously close doesn't help), so I asked my friend, Betty, to give me a hand.

The sad part is, these turn out extremely good and put any possibility of me actually making sweet potatoes taste this delish' right out the window. This also cut my prep time in half, which is perfect for an anxious chef such as myself.

Once those were done, I spread them out over the meaty base and pop in oven. And wait.

And now... NOW I see why the wine is so important.

You have 30min of unadulterated alone time while your oven takes over the rest.

Time to fill up a favorite over-sized coffee mug and get the party started!

(**side note, I have no idea why this part is red, and my limited HTML experience won't allow me to fix it...)

Unless, of course, you have two very judgey on-lookers.

FINE.

Considering I've still got hot surfaces and sharp objects around, it's probably a good thing I start slowly.

Actually, I like this swanky wine glass. A present from Cadey, John's little sis, I use this every chance I get to feel like "aaahhh real South'un lay-day." (Thanks again, girl!)

After 30 min, I check on it and it smells HEAVENLY. I add the shredded cheese and pop back in for another 5-7 min.

At this point, I really don't really even care what it tastes like. The heavy, magical aroma of all the flavors coming together was worth all of it.

Time to scoop up a plate and pour glass number 2!

Or was it 4?

After polishing off a heaping helping, I'm convinced this is indeed, a success. I'll definitely be trying it again and am happy with the substitutions I made.

Just not happy with the mess....

Ehhhhh... Whatever. It'll still be there in the morning. But you know what won't be? The chance for dessert.

Nothing satisfies my after-dinner sweet tooth or pairs better with a zesty wine like a spoonful of Nutella.

And nope. This time, I'm not down-sizing.

So there you have it. No culinary masterpieces using lots of technique and ingredients you can't pronounce. It's amazing in it's simplicity, packed with some serious nutrition, and a little unexpected. Frankly, that's how I like all of my meals, and it's inspired me to continue experimenting with classic-with-a-twist kinds of recipes. If anyone is up for taking on the adventure with me, then tally-ho! Oh, and I will have the wine, whether the recipe calls for it or not.

Happy Eating!

I've Lost the "Spring" in My Step. Looks Like It's Time to Go Shoe-Shopping.

Out of the darkness comes the inspiring light.

Out of the violent storms comes the beautiful rainbow.

Out of the crummy potatoes comes the "ahh, that's the stuff" vodka.

It's the Monday night of my spring break, and I'm sitting at home preparing for a long day of research and further life catch-up for the Tuesday of my spring break... as if the first few days weren't already about that. NO, my friends, I'm not basking on a sunny coast. I'm not in a place of glitz and glamour. I'm not getting crunk on moonshine in the mountains.

I'm taking care of bid'ness.

This semester has been really difficult for me. Kicked. My. Azz. I've struggled to find direction, to keep up with the demands... to basically know what in a blue-blazes was going on day-to-day and week-to-week. As much as I wanted to so badly to have a great spring break experience, I think I needed more-so a chance to plan for the next eight weeks (the end of the academic year). And the daunting summer sandwiched between two years of academic agony.

And, all the while, selfishly... I'm scared my hard work will be in vain. All for naught.

I can't help sometimes but wish I was toasted on a beach-side porch or running willy-nilly down the streets of some amazing destination like most of my friends.

For the next undisclosed amount of time, I've deactivated my Facebook account. It's bratty and weird to do so, I know; but it's become a constant reminder of how lame, behind, or generally boring I've become. OH, and how I'm not getting engaged, pregnant, or otherwise experiencing some glorified life event any time soon.

(To my Facebook Scrabble friends, my most humble apologies. I'm trying to find a way around that....)

And, in the end, I've decided I've wasted far too much time wondering. Wondering what people think. Think about silly things. In another case of God sending me little reminders of how ridiculous and restless I've let my brain become (y'all know I'm a sucker for my cosmic interventions), the following passages from recent Mass readings gave me slight, but significant comfort - kind of like that favorite bottle of cheap grocery store wine can give. But BETTER.

1 Corinthians 4:3-5

"I care very little if I am judged by you or by any human court; indeed, I do not even judge myself. My conscience is clear, but that does not make be innocent. It is the Lord who judges me. Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait until the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in the darkness and will expose the motives of the heart. At that time each will receive their praise before God."

Matthew 6: 25, 27, 31-34

"Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you shall put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?..."

"And which of you by being anxious can add one [hour] to his span of life?"

"Therefore, do not be anxious, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans seek all these things; and your heavenly Father knows you need them all. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be given to you as well. Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

Ah, yep. I'm certainly no purveyor of in-your-face religion. And I'm certainly no innocent one.

But I know the Almighty has lots of important things to say.

If He says I shouldn't worry, I guess I shouldn't.

Maybe I should take a note from my weirdo dog....

I wuv yoo!

And looks like He's the only on who can judge me, muchachos.

Nah-nah-nee-boo-boo!

In other words, I'm taking a mental vacation this spring break. Taking time to focus on sorting out the chaotic thoughts and to-do lists floating in my head. Taking time to get where I need to be, at least to handle the next big steps. Did I treat myself to said favorite bottle of wine? It's the least I could do.

To all (maybe 4?) of you reading this:

Don't worry, I'll be back to being sassy soon enough.

I Be Up in the Gym, Just Workin' on My Fitness. Here's How You Can, Too.

I survived.

Kind of.

After countless hours of studying, typing & re-writing notes, bleeding my highlighter dry in my textbooks, and deciding that sleep was a secondary necessity of life... my midterms are behind me.

Kind of.

I still have a take home midterm to complete, but it's been tabled until this weekend.

Tonight, I drink.

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Prior to the hell week (that I'm still not sure is over), I did, in fact, have the opportunity to participate in something that I do enjoy - and heck, might even be decent at (grad school = not so much). I attended the Southeastern Collegiate Fitness EXPO, a conference for those involved in university wellness and recreation. I. had. a. BLAST! My buttocks was royally whipped, but I'd go through that 100 times over before ever having to go through another round of midterms. I learned so much, challenged myself physically harder than ever before, met some cool people, and got to know my fellow group exercise instructors a little bit more (some of y'all a lot more than others, nah what I'm sayin'?!). I'm already excited for next year and can't wait to implement all my new moves and ideas into my classes. You should really come to one of them... IF YOU CAN HANDLE IT.

So, while it's difficult to summarize all the tidbits of my trip, one thing that came out of it was talking with fellow instructors/personal trainers about what we love about teaching classes/helping clients... and what we HATE. That, I felt was worthy of sharing, because by reading this you'll either be our next super-star participant, or you'll save yourself the embarrassment and keep your lazy, squishy keister at home (<-- reverse psychology; is it working?). Allow me to bring you:

*Celia's Tips for Surviving Group-X Classes Like a Champ*

(*Photo prop-a-tee of Breakfast at Target, shot at an actual class where I work!)

Show up on time or a little early; this ain't no gallery opening.

We instructors love it when you're there and ready to go right when the class is scheduled to begin. It's a respectful gesture to the other participants and the instructor, and it's proven you work harder when you're already "in the zone" before the class even starts. Not only does it get you mentally prepared, but the warm-up is SO IMPORTANT. It prevents injury and allows you to safely start challenging yourself. Yes, even if it's not a cardio-based class. DON'T MISS IT. So, if you think you can saunter in a group-x class fashionably late, think again - it's dangerous, rude, and pretty stinkin' annoying.

When we ask, "HOW ARE YOU DOING?!"... we're not being polite.

We really want to know. A simple whoo! really is sufficient; shoot, even a simple aauuggh! is fine. Despite being prepared with a class plan, we instructors will tweak the class based on atmosphere of the room. If everyone's doing great (whoo!), we'll move on to the next thing or crank up the intensity. If everyone's dying (aauuggh!), we know to tone it down and maybe break down the current routine. Similarly, it's a simple measure of knowing you can still breathe enough to do the moves and scream back at us. We hate quiet classrooms and being the only one to make noise. We love when you're there to have as much fun as we are.

On the flip-side...

Keep the talkin' for after class, fools! If you can hold a conversation with your friend next to you, you're not working hard enough. You're also most likely missing important safety cues and information on what's coming up, which will only cause imminent harm and incur dirty looks to both you and your chatty pal.

Did you mistake a GX class for a rap video try-out?

Because you look ridiculous. Listen, I like being a little festive and wearing athletic gear that doesn't make me look like a mid-town hobo. If I'm going to be sweaty and smelly by the end of it, I may as well have on some cute clothes. But for pete's sake, if you look like you spent a significant portion of your day planning what to wear to the gym, you're not impressing anyone. A face full of make-up and sparkly yoga pants aren't going to make you work out harder, do the moves better, and no one is here scouting for Vegas showgirls. Group exercise classes are for working your booty, not getting some.

Likewise, don't channel the Olsen twins.

Layers of ratty clothing and a sullen attitude is hardly what a good work out makes. Ya freak.

We LOVE it when you "take the challenge."

We know the first class or two is all about figuring out the moves, the instructor, and what you're good/not-so-good at. But once you've got it down, GO FOR IT. Use heavier weights. Make your moves bigger. Squat a little deeper. Make your technique stronger. Go a little bit harder. A little bit each time is ALL you need! In some of my classes, some participants couldn't do a push-up to save their life. Now, a set of 8-10 is a breeze. Trust me, we instructors notice when you're working hard. And when you're getting better. Not to throw the cheesy factor at ya, but it really does inspire us to watch you become the bad-ass you were meant to be.

We can only push you so far.

But in the end, it's YOU who exerts the energy, takes the challenge, and actually shows up to class. We'll do everything we can as instructors to teach you how to move properly, to give you the best results, to motivate you through the 60 minutes of the best pain and torture of your life; but we need you to stick with us. Fact: You only see results when you completely exhaust your muscles to the point where you can't push them anymore. For the mind-body style classes, it's not as intense, but you still need to break out of your comfort zone to feel the effects. If exercise was easy, we'd all be size 2's and eat doughnut burgers for breakfast. It's a process of dedication and personal-growth. There are no plateaus. There's only the part where you stop trying, where you accept failure as the inevitable constant, and where you don't ask for help from the people you need it from most. Slip-ups are okay. Giving up is not.

And while we're at it:

- Talk to us; we love to know what you liked. And yes, we want to know what sucked.

- Turn your phones off -- for the next hour, the only thing you need to answer is "ARE YOU FEELING IT?!"

- Spit out the gum. What? You think your fresh minty breath will make up for the fact you smell like a gas station bathroom? Suck it up and wear your post-workout funk like it's the latest P-Diddy cologne and get rid of the gum. I know CPR, but I really don't want to have to beat your chest and scream WHY GOD, WHYYY!? when you choke.

- SMILE. And like you mean it.

**For the fellas:

- It really irritates us instructors when you act like our classes are a frilly social hour disguised with a few Jane Fonda moves. I challenge any one of you to come and see if you can handle what we throw at you. I have a few dudes that come to my strength & endurance training class and I can assure you they're progressing better than some of the meatheads in the weight room doing everything ALL wrong. We love it when you treat us as a real fitness professional and acknowledge the work we're doing to make the world a fitter, happier place.

- LIKEWISE, group exercise classes are quite possibly THE best way to meet chics. For one, you see us ladies as we are; if we're still attractive with no make-up and in a tshirt drenched in sweat, chances are we clean up even better. If we're hideous, you just saved yourself the disappointment of taking home the "done-up" version and waking up to that mess. Further, if we can throw a legit punch, lift some serious weight, pick up complicated combinations in record time, and make 100 jumping jacks look like a walk in the park, chances are we're not the kind of needy damsel who requires lots frou-frou attention. We'll bring the heat every where we go. Do you hear me? EVERYWHERE.

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Hopefully by now, you've got it.

NOW, if I could just get a personal trainer for my schoolwork, I'd be set.

8 weeks til the end of school. 8 weeks.

Questions? Comments? Additional tips you'd like to share? You know where to leave them.

And for the love of Richard Simmons, I updated the "reactions" below - all you have to do is click on them. I need feedback y'all!