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Rants and Raves….Or maybe just Rants

Ok, so normally my posts are pretty upbeat. Or maybe not-but tonight I feel like ranting, and unfortunately my husband isn’t around to listen so you people luck out.

Rant #1: Television. Although many people find it hard to believe-I lived without television from age 18-33. What started as a bill I didn’t want to have after moving out of my mom’s house turned into something I just got used to not having and was perfectly ok with. Well, to my dismay, it turns out that when you get married, you don’t always get your way and my spouse seems to have a fairly common ailment among the male species in which I have appropriately named CLWSACAWHWOTVOIMD Disease – Can’t Live Without Sports And Carls jr. Ads With Hot Women OTelevision Or I Might Die Disease.

So, upon learning that my husband may not survive without cable I did what any good wife would do and told him to order it and pay the  monthly bill as I surely wouldn’t be watching. Well fast forward to this evening when I  accidentally mixed a toxic concoction of PMS and Facebook that left me wanting to escape reality for a bit, so I decided to **GASP** turn on the television. After figuring out how to start the dang thing (why do we have 5 flippin’ remotes on our coffee table?!!) and flipping through 9,341,965 channels-I finally found the show I wanted to watch!!! And look what I got:

NOT AUTHORIZED???!!! Out of 9,341,965 channels I pick the “not authorized” one??!!! I definitely won’t be gambling tonight.


Rant #2: Places that sell things behind glass so you have to ask for it in person. Now, as if having a gas problem while on vacation with your new husband isn’t bad enough, I recently found myself in this less then sexy predicament:

No there wasn’t another store around, yes the guy behind the counter was kinda cute, and of course I picked up my phone pretending to call “the friend that needed something for her stomach”. Seriously, did these need to be behind glass?? I mean, if people are suffering with flatulence bad enough to seek out pharmaceuticals – maybe stores could risk a possible theft now and then to help avoid the consumer’s humiliation. Aka: MINE!!!


Rant #3: People that don’t cover their mouth when they cough. Ok, I don’t know about you but I think I learned to cover my mouth before I learned to walk. HOWEVER, it appears to me that some nasty folks just didn’t get the effing memo!!!! Now, it’s one thing to just kinda clear your throat: ahem hem – you know the sound? But when you are hacking away like you are  a 108 year old with asthma, that swallowed 2 porcupines and smoked 458 cigarettes for breakfast, CAN YOU PLEASE COVER YOUR F***ING MOUTH?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

It is because of you people that my name and the letters OCD can usually be found in the same sentence, and I can’t go for more than 6 minutes without reapplying my hand sanitizer. Now, just in case any of you reading this are guilty of such raunchy behavior, I have kindly staged some photos of myself engaging in open hole hacking with the high hopes you may change your mind about going “hands free” …..


Yes, you really do look that bad.


My husband thanks you for listening, and Lysol thanks me for keeping them in business,








WTF = Where’s The Food

After reading my latest post: Honeymoons, Hangover, and Hula Pie’s – many subscribers questioned this statement:

 Normally, I kinda love to workout (ok maybe not the actual process, but the feeling after).”

Apparently it is assumed that because most of my 34 years on this planet have been consumed by sports and fitness, I must love working out. Well, unless my “gym boyfriends” (the occasional hot men at my gym that somehow magically make me workout 10 times harder when they are in close proximity. And yes my husband knows all about them) are in the building, I’d rather be doing pretty much anything else. However, the feeling after a workout is what keeps me going back for more. I mean who actually likes the process??? Sweat, pain, shortness of breath? Do those words describe your ideal way in which to spend some of your free time? Me neither, but living a long life in a healthy body and stuffing my face occasionally does, which brings me to Thanksgiving.

There are 7 things that I really LOVE about Thanksgiving, and they are, in no particular order: food, food, dessert, food, dessert, food and food. So when I hear advice that is given to people who are watching their daily caloric intake – key word daily – I think silently to myself, WTF!

You see, when you workout and watch your caloric intake on a daily basis, you can have WTF days and even still fit into your jeans the next morning!! Just don’t say “eff” it and decide that you might as well continue the party until New Years (been there, done that). In all my years of training, trying every new fad, every diet, giving up this for some reason, eating more of that for another, I have learned one very important thing:


Personally, I am a “Monday Wagoner”, but I don’t recommend it. The optimal scenario in Wagon Speak looks something like this for example: You went to lunch with friends and decided to eat like you had just finished a 462 mile marathon. Somehow, a few hours later (dinner time) you are hungry again and decide that you must get back on track and consume only grilled chicken and broccoli then call it a night. Ideal? Yes. Realistic? #Notforme #Notinthislifetime #Not’effing’ever #Ya’effing’right

Now, you might be wondering how Monday Wagoning works if the above described smorgasbord happens say, on a Tuesday, so let me clarify: “Monday” to me means the next day, unless its a weekend-then “Monday” actually means Monday, and if you find me completely insane at this point and choose to stop reading, I don’t blame you.

Ok, so it’s “Monday“?! Now what?!  Try doing the opposite of what got you here in the first place, as in put down that bottle of wine and pick up that glass of water. Here is an example of a recent swap I made: a weekend full of booze, cake, fried sh#t and any and all bread I could get my hands on; to this on Monday:

 Mine is on the left. My Husband tried to follow the “green drink” policy, but when you have the metabolism of a 16 year old boy that plays high school sports 8 nights a week (hate him), you can do whatever the “eff” you want.

So, as you spend this day with your loved ones, or un-loved ones-because let’s face it: the family you actually like are the ones you keep in contact with the other 364 days a year, remember 3 things:

#1. WTFing is ok!!!

2. I will be WTFing my face off!!!

#3. WTFing rests between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Follow this formula, and you too can have a wonderful holiday!

 WTFing makes sharing that table with “Uncle Creeper” a bit more bearable!!! And if you happen to be in the Cambria, Ca. area-you can WTF some flower pot bread with me at my favorite place to spend Thanksgiving (the Sow’s Ear)!!!

To Your Health, Happiness, and Sanity this Turkey Day,







Honeymoons, Hangovers, and Hula Pie’s

Oh the honeymoon. When I would think of what my honeymoon might be like, I pictured tons of romance, looking and feeling sexy, long walks on the beach, and candle lit dinners-where I would so delicately and femininely pick at my grilled fish and salad. Well NEWS FLASH people!! Here’s what it really looked like:


Sexy in the way of food porn, perhaps. Sexy in the way my lycra containing jeans didn’t fit after 5 days-not so much. Before I go into further detail with you, let me just say that I had a GREAT TIME!!! Hawaii was beautiful, I was with my best friend, and I stuffed my face like anyone at an all-inclusive resort would do. But I wasn’t at an all inclusive resort. I can honestly say that I started with good intentions-that is until I found out that whenever you’d tell a waiter or waitress it’s your honeymoon-you seemed to get a free Hula Pie. Who can resist a Hula Pie?!! Surely not me. I mean, do you know what is in a Hula Pie??! Never mind the ingredients, the important part is that they are the size of my head and I ate 4 of them in 6 days. I say I because my husband seemed to be the one doing the delicate feminine picking while I oh so sexily shoveled our “shared” pile of heaven into my mouth.

As you probably know from reading my previous posts, I am a bit of an extremist. All or nothing. Black or white. You know the type. So naturally, the morning after Hula Pie #1, I effortlessly  abandoned my usual egg white/oatmeal combo, finding this for breakfast:

Coconut pull-apart bread. I’m pretty sure I didn’t even look this happy on my wedding day, folks. So again Jay and I “shared”, and you know how well that went over. Now it’s one thing to stuff your face, but when you retain water like a pack of extra heavy duty sponges left to soak in a bathtub full of salt water for a year, you end up with ankles like these:


 My salt-less ankle for comparison. And a Great Dane paw too.

By NO MEANS am I trying to say that I have sexy ankles when I don’t retain water-but what I am trying to say is: How in the world are you supposed to feel sexy on your honeymoon when your ankles are the size of your thighs by day TWO!?!! Did I mention my period started on day 3? Thank goodness for maxi dresses, as the thought of wearing my bikini made me lose my appetite. Ok, thats a lie-nothing makes me lose my appetite.

Anyway, somewhere between gorging, sleeping, and deciding which maxi dress I brought had the most “slimming” effect-I found myself at the gym. UGH. Normally, I kinda love to workout (ok maybe not the actual process, but the feeling after). However, when I am eating like crap and have no intentions of stopping until the most convenient MONDAY (another problem), I find myself just monkeying around:


 How many pull-ups do you think I did? If you guessed not even one, you are correct. This photo was just to prove that I made some sort of attempt to stay in shape. But one can only do so much to negate the 273,918,365 calories they piled in the day before. OH! And you know what else this photo proves? My HUSBAND was at the gym with me! Only, his lucky a@@ can eat 273,918,365 calories and not gain a freakin’ ounce. Jerk.

Well, dreadfully came the day when it was time to leave, and if you read my blog I Broke Up with my Wedding, you know how much I dislike endings:

 Yes, I am crying. Into a bed sheet. However, I’m not sure it was going home, or getting back to my regular eating that brought more tears than a box of Kleenex could handle. Probably the latter.

And then came MONDAY

 Normally, I enjoy this type of meal. But after a week full of Hula Pie’s, pull-apart bread, pineapple bagels, Puka Dogs (omg google it), coconut crusted calamari, and everything macadamia nut I could get my hands on, grilled chicken, asparagus, onions and sliced tomatoes just didn’t have their usual appeal. In fact, I’m pretty sure my taste buds thought I was playing some kind of sick joke on them. Needless to say, it’s been 4 days since Monday, which means 4 days of clean eating, hard workouts, plenty of water, and dreaming about Mai Tai’s-but alas the bloat is starting to banish. starting. So was it worth it? Totally. Why? Because you only live once and you only have one honeymoon. Hopefully.


This post was brought to you by the 2012 Hula Pie eating contest champion,

Laura Weintraub