No pain; no gain....apparently

Man oh man. I try, I really do. I just can't seem to get back into the blogging lifestyle, but if you wanna bear with me, then there will be a post every now and then. Might as well be honest about it.

News? Plenty.
I have moved into my little matchbox and I adore it. I had no problems of settling in and it felt like home immediately. It's my little haven that I can relax in and it is just super cosy.
I will have to take photo's and post them one day.

I haven't had a housewarming because every weekend is pretty much out. I have so much going on. I looked at my calendar the other day and the first weekend that I will have to myself is the first weekend of November. Hectic.

This weekend I am going to Sin City for Spring Break. I have never been...to Spring Break, I mean. Apparently it's one massive concert/party vibe in the evening and during the day you chill out at Valley of the Waves sun-tanning and playing with the water slides. Should be good.

European Boy and I are awesome. I'm madly in love, really happy and I'm excited...he's taking me away to Mauritius in November. Yes. It's always been a dream of mine to go to a Tropical island. I am getting a dream come true. I can't wait for the Turquoise waters, white sandy beaches and plenty of sunshine, snorkelling, pina coladas and utter relaxation.

Have you noticed how all the things that are coming up involve something that I shudder about.
B-I-K-I-N-I.
I actually have to go bikini shopping today because I don't know what has happened to mine. I swear there have to be "Moving Gremlins" ... so many of my things have disappeared from the move. Odd.

Why couldn't I have stuck to my winter gym routine so that I wouldn't be a whale...a lily white one to be exact? Oh wait. I got sick in winter and couldn't continue the gym routine. Bloody hell.

I am officially back though. I have moved to a new gym that is 5 minutes from my house. NO EXCUSES. I've started doing Spinning Classes at... wait for it ... 05:15. Yes. In the morning.
I know!!

I also bumped into my old personal Trainer. The gentle GIANT. He has muscles on top of muscles and looks like a mean muscle machine, but he is the gentlest, kindest, sweetest man. I went to him about 4 years ago for a month and he transformed my body (not completely, but for 1 month it was remarkable) however, he then moved to another gym and I couldn't continue with him.
I was so thrilled to see him. So now I am going to him every other day at 6am for an hour session.

I am determined to have a toned body. I'm sick of complaining about it. I've started eating right and exercising and I am certainly going to give myself a proper shot.
Why do I feel like I've heard this all before?
Oh yes. I try this each year. Here is hoping that it will actually work. Hell, if I can stop smoking cold turkey, then I surely have enough willpower to do this. Hell, if I have enough will power to be on the seat of the bicyle at 05:15 then I don't know.

Wish me luck.

Now for the part that I have really been putting off thinking about, let alone writing about.

The De-fuzzing Down There.
I wish I could shave - tried that - itched like hell when it grew back. Just saying. TMI? Sorry.
I'm allergic to hair removal creams. I found out the fun, hard way.
So what other option do I have?
To pour gooey hot stuff all over and rip the &*%$#@! out of me. Awesome.

Guess what I have scheduled at 2pm today? YAY for me!! Not only do I have to get into a ... *shudder* .... bikini... *shudder*.... this weekend but I also really don't want to look like the chick from Scary Movie ... you know the scene where he needs a weed-whacker. Nice.

I am not really a fan of pain. Never have been. So there's that and the fact that some stranger (I don't care that she has seen hundreds and does this all the time or the fact that she is female) is going to part my legs and wax me.
I mean, is there a code out there like there is for doctors and pyschiatrists? Thou shalt not discuss clients at weekend parties?
God I hope so.
I mean I don't know how that topic could ever come up, but hey...stranger things have happened. Right?
Beautician to mates: "Damn - you should have seen this one cookie I was waxing...."
Ok. That would be weird. I don't know if I would like to hear that from my beautician friends.

I really cannot believe that at 2pm today Im going to be gripping the side of the bed and biting pillows. Hopefully the bikini shopping won't be as painful.

Wish me luck.

Dread

I've been putting it off, but I'm running out of time. I need to take the plunge and plunge straight into the chaotic malls. Help me.
I need to still do my Christmas shopping. I know! I haven't even started. I know!!!
I am dreading it! Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not dreading the buying part (I love giving gifts) but I am dreading throwing myself into the lions pit of hurried shoppers, irritable shop assistants and crying kids.
Oh and I have to still do that bikini shopping. Aaaaaaahhh!!!!!!

If I only I didn't have a personal "NO GIFT VOUCHERS" policy. It might change this year. Just saying.

Naughty Naughty

I didn't go bikini shopping. I didn't have the strength physically and certainly not emotionally! LOL

I have the funniest two videos for you. EVER. I cried with laughter through these!! I just had to share them with you!
Do yourself a favour and watch them... hilarious!

Shit and Shopping.

There is NOTHING like waking up to a funky smell. If I was in a cartoon it would be like that green smoke wafting through to my nostrils and let me tell you, this smell would certainly singe nostrils hairs.
I should have woken up properly when The Garden Terrorist (aka my gorgeous dog) was restless and kept nudging my hand in the middle of the night. I just rolled over. Oh I'm so so sorry this morning. That smell woke me. I opened my sleepy eyes and out the corner of my eye I saw mounds of steamy diarroeah and vomit. The Garden Terrorist is not a small, lap dog (I've never been a fan of those that look like rats or are Paris H/handbag sized.) either. He is a monster of a dog who sleeps at the base of our bed. I wretched at the piles of shit all over the place. Oh and it's runny. Really runny.
Guess who has to clean it up? Me. My man had a plane to catch and acted like he had to rush, rush, rush.
I think I'll hang an air freshener around my nose, suck a breath mint and don gloves. Oh kill me.

Today I am going to do the thing that is dreaded by any woman who isn't a supermodel.
I could think of a few things I would rather do, like gargle with glass or perhaps I could stick toothpicks through my eyes balls.
Today I am going bikini shopping. Oh it pained me to type that. You have to try on swimwear. You just have to. But why do we have to try on swimwear in revolting, unflattering change rooms? Why oh why do stores do this to us? Revolting, bright light that shows every lump and bump and 101 mirrors so we can see ourselves in every angle. Awesome. Oh and my best? The bikini's sold as one. I can't handle that. I need a bigger top and a smaller bottom. Not both in one size. Oh no. Those beady eyed sales reps are there waiting for me.
"Sorry. You can't seperate them!" is normally whined at me.
To find one that fits and turns me into a Victoria Secret Goddess is well...I'm still looking.

I can hardly contain myself with the excitement. I now understand the purpose of the Hip Flask. I need to get sloshed so that I can drink myself pretty!

Below is the wish. Below that is most likely the reality. Kill me.


Wish me luck.