Definition of Misery

Day 1 is completed and I must say, I do not believe that other people find this cleanse easy. I was absolutely miserable yesterday and today is not starting so great. I didn't realize that I would be so cranky without caffeine because I have gone without caffeine before and I've also done a cleanse before, 2 years ago I did the General Motors cleanse and I felt really good throughout that process. This. Is. Torture. I had a pounding headache all day at work (maybe I was also just itching to leave the office) but when I came home I decided to just rest in bed a bit and I dozed off, I made myself a shake for dinner and fell asleep around 8, I woke up again around 12:30 to go to the bathroom and still had a vicious headache on the left side of my head, it was so bad that my eye kept tearing, probably my subconscious crying for food and caffeine. My hungry self was telling me to get up, pour a cup of iced coffee and make something to eat, but I knew better, I counted til 200 until I finally fell asleep. I woke up feeling better today, I've been drinking water and had my breakfast shake and an Isa-snack. Mostly, I think I feel miserable for having let myself get so out of control where I barely recognized myself anymore, which makes me sad. To counterbalance my misery of not doing anything for 4th of July, I will watch comedies in bed which also serve as a distraction of my hunger until I get to eat a little something today (a modest meal of 400-600 calories).

As a sidenote, I'm currently watching Fatal Attraction, and that bitch is crazy.

Fran goes on a life cleanse, misery ensues....

I am in desperate need of a life cleanse, a phrase I often joke with but I've decided it is very serious especially with the upcoming nuptials of all of my favorite friends. But not just a food cleanse but also a soul cleanse, I've been thinking a lot about myself and who I'd like to be and how can I get there, so there is a lot of room for improvement, I decided. I'm a grown-ass lady! I am owning my perpetual single-ness and loving the independence that I continue to have, but I need to get my shit together ya'll and it's happening tomorrow....
First step is that I have decided to do the Isagenix 9 day cleanse starting tomorrow. I am very sad as I love food and eating and drinking a lot, which has become very obvious in my growing size. I have too many events coming up to not get back to my once smaller self so I received the product from a friend whose mom sells the isagenix life so I will be tracking my misery and hopefully my success over the next week. Stay tuned folks, there is going to be one cranky blogger up in this bitch.

How to end up with a janky ankle

Picture this: It was a terrible tator tot debacle. I was out for a friends birthday Saturday and when I got back to my apartment I was itching to making tots, so I throw them in the oven but then all of a sudden the apartment gets real smokey and sure enough the fire alarm starts blaring! I panic and make sure the tots are not burning, they weren't so I had to think quick, I decided to run to my room to open my window, as I approach the window my weak ankle (the right one) rolls and instantly swells. The neighbors come to check to see if there was a fire, I assured them there wasn't. Eventually the alarm stopped and the tots were perfectly cooked and enjoyed by all. I, however, iced, elevated and rested my ankle, soaked that bad boy in Epsom salt and wrapped it with an ace bandage and I've been limping to work, but it's way better now than it was that fateful night. Moral of the story kiddos: the tots are always worth it, especially with cheese on top.

New Year, Old Habits

Yes, I am alive, it has been too long since my last post but as a promise to my self-proclaimed number one fan I am going to have 1 real resolution for 2013, and that is to write more, and maybe it doesn't have to be just about my continuous failed love life, I need to start praising myself and the successes and struggles that I have gone through and/or are going through.

I am always hopeful for a great New Year's Eve, i seem to be one of the few people who enjoy the fact of celebrating the past and future; majority of my friends find it cliche or an amateur night out, which they are totally correct about. And every year i am hopeful for a fun (possibly magical) evening, then reality sets in and i realize i am not in a movie and i need to stop thinking that i would meet the man of my dreams and it would start the next year of my life. It never works that way, so instead i have a night of fun and drinking and dancing with my girlfriends because in the end, what is more important than the people you want to consistently have in your life!

I usually do not like to make resolutions because it is just far to easy to give up on them, I'd rather set some small goals that I'd like to accomplish, first being to loose some weight, like every other person in the world, but i have very specific reasons for this, one because I've continued to let myself gain weight even after a number of my clothes stopped fitting me, second because i have 3 weddings this year and all 3 are of my very best friends which includes one where i will be in a bridesmaid gown (yikes! the first bridal party i am a part of since my cousin's wedding) and another wedding where i will be in the same room as my ex boyfriend and his now wife (anxiety of finding a date to that wedding will follow, luckily i have about 7 months to find a suitable date-MUST BE OVER 6 FEET). I'd just like to feel good about myself again- i go through periods of borderline depression (not uncommon) where i just don't feel good enough about anything in my life, my job, my friends, my family-but then i have moments of clarity where i realize i am beyond lucky so another "resolution" is to just take advantage of my life. I am now considered to be approaching 30 (in 4 years) but i need to continue to do just that. This year was huge for me, i was brave enough to move out of my parents house into the city, something I've always wanted to do, and i cannot be happier about it, i have realized that i am very independent and it makes me confident that in 2013, i will be just fine.

happy new year bitches!

The One Month Curse

Everyone who knows me (and probably those who don't know me), can attest that recently (my entire adult life thus far), I have had some (many) disappointments in my love life. The more I try, the worse it seems to get, see exhibit A.

Exhibit A
Nigel* (name changed to protect the identity/so I don't get sued/yelled at, bonus! 3 out of the 5 letters are in his real name) approached me the way a young gentleman would now-a-days, via the facebook. I knew him from college, we were both English majors. He started by "liking" a few pictures and then commenting on one, so a conversation sparked and plans were made. Both being bookworms, we decided to select short stories and have them read by our scheduled "hang out" so that we can discuss. (Sounds dreamy thus far) I am one of those people who enjoy texting, it breaks up my day, and I just really enjoy any form of writing and not speaking; so we would text back and forth ALL day, and talking about everything so things were looking good. The day comes and I have a plan to meet at the NYPL so that we can see the Shelley exhibit and then walk over to the $1 bookstore and then grab drinks and chat. He is on crutches so every plan fails excepts going to grab drinks, which we do and it is great, we talk about school, literature and the short stories and share a smooch. He is adorable and I liked him. Here begins my troubles, the moment I find myself interested in someone, everything falls apart. But our texts continued and he gave all the right signs, then things became frustrating, especially because he lived in a dreaded borough (it's an island, not Manhattan).  Fast forward to the second time we hang out, he is finally on 2 feet, no crutches, we meet at Washington Square Park, grab a glass of wine, get Pb&J sandwiches, go to a wine bar which has a flamenco performance, and sip sangria. It was a truly lovely time, we part ways and then NOTHING. Mind you, we have briefly kissed but nothing more/nothing less, we cannot chalk it up to being a floozy, we cannot chalk it up to being a prude, I don't have any excuses. We have brief text exchanges about books, small talk, work, etc. and then the phase out plan begins to take hold and I realize, he no longer cares to converse and so I let it go, the way I let everything go when I realize it is no longer worth my time. The reason I continually get frustrated is because I just don't think I get much of a chance to have that extended time with someone to make them fall in love with me the right way!

I don't know why my romances get cut so short, the pattern I've noticed is one month or less, so I have realized I have the one-month curse placed upon me and I will need to figure out how to have 12-1 month boyfriends for next year.

Too Short's "Blow the whistle"

*although the song lyrics don't go with this posting, I am, in essence, blowing the whistle on men who are too short, thank you.*

After being perpetually single many have asked if I have a type and for the most part I always said "not really" and I shrugged and added, "smart, funny..." the usual things one looks for in a mate. I thought this because many of the boys who had caught my eye didn't really have anything in common with each other....EXCEPT they were all short. And they all sucked, obviously since they are not with me (they are clearly distraught over this and I feel bad for them, gratuitous ego boost!) but yes, they were under 5'6". Which to me is tall since I come in at one and a half full American inches over five feet, intimidating for a third grader. The more I reflected on why I kept insisting that I liked guys who were short the more annoyed I became at myself, men who are short clearly have a complex- they are always trying to compensate for their lack of height in other ways-by being crude and overtly sexual, by participating and flaunting their participation in marathons/obstacle courses to show how manly and fit they are and mostly by being plain old jerks. As a woman I understand having to compensate for many things however I was always rooting for these little guys, I was the girl who openly wanted to date you vertically challenged bastards, but for what reason, the chances of you getting your ass beat by a 6 foot muscle man are odds I'd bet against you, you men do not make me feel any better about myself and in looking back I've always felt like I wasn't enough for them... And now here comes my epiphany-I refuse to date down anymore! No more shorties, take your Napoleon complexes to the local junior high playground, I wants me a tall glass of water(who of course is still intelligent, ambitious, funny and enjoys a scotch as much as I do). Sorry midges for the longest time I was all for your type but now I'm over it.

I thought coming out to see you would be a nice time...

So it has been about a million years since I have been taken on an official date, therefore I have had some time to reflect on past awful encounters. This one in particular makes me chuckle so I do hope you feel the same, although part of me thinks you wish you would have been there to feel the same...
When my BFF, A and her boyfriend, M, first started talking there was a night where M met us at one of our favorite Mexican restaurants and he came with one of his friends,also named M( M2 for purpose of this story, and while their names are eerily similar, their personalities unfortunately are not) Well, M2 is a good looking guy and he seemed quite into me at the restaurant and was interested in getting to know me so we talked and got to know each other. (insert red flag here) he is from Bensonhurst, which is not a neighborhood known to breed the types of guys I am interested in dating and not to say there aren't exceptions because there are exceptions to every area, however he was the very stereotypical Bensonhurst boy and I am not saying I am the smartest/most sophisticated girl but I have my good side, so I had an inkling I might be a stretch for M2. Of course there were the poorly spelled text messages and the "when are we going to hang out?" messages...but soon came the next time we all would go out.. My sister, A, and I went to get massages and planned to meet M and M2 at the bar after, we all sat talking and me being very social and still getting to know M i wanted to be part of the larger conversation that was going on at the table, but M2 wanted to only speak to me and didn't want to be part of the other conversation (red flag waving) We sat at the bar and boom there he was standing at my feet while I sat on the stool... He was rubbing my back/neck when all of a sudden, homeboy tried to put his finger in my mouth, not in the seductive way one does in the privacy of anywhere but a bar, but shoving his index finger in between my lips. Well, hey now, i am barely into PDAs but I tried to be polite and let him know that I don't like my face to be touched. But lo and behold he tried once more and I got angry. Anger is not an emotion I associate myself with, I may get sad and sensitive but I don't really get angry, but this was just uncomfortable. So we immediately left and went back to Queens; after getting home i received a few messages, one accusing me of liking M more than him (fact: M is a million times better) and then this gem of a text shortly after, "I really thought coming out to see you was going to be a nice experience" nope, sorry buddy, i also thought it would be a nice experience not bulimia practice and I guess sometimes I am not a nice experience. But lesson learned: avoid Bensonhurst like the zombie apocalypse.