A world where death is only temporary

Story Prompt:  A world where death is only a temporary inconvenience…

“I’ll meet you for coffee at our favorite cafe,” Donna choked her words out through smoke damaged lungs, to her sister Katie, who checked her phone again.

“Yeah, I’ll tell Mom and Dad you died. See ya,” Katie said as she placed her hand on her sister’s burned-to-a-crisp arm and turned to leave. Katie had seen Donna die at least five times this year, and it was becoming a serious inconvenience. Katie had been called every time to identify the body or possibly speak to Donna before she died. It was always the same though, make sure her plants got watered, the cat got fed, and to meet at their cafe for coffee later. It was hard for Katie to keep her eyes from rolling when she heard Donna had slept with a cigarette and lit herself on fire.

On her way home from the dead body collection point, Katie walked past Ed the jumper. On the last Saturday of the month at approximately 6pm, Ed jumps from the highest bridge in Katie’s town, falling face first into concrete. Katie once asked him why he did it and he explained that it was just time for him to be dead, like the old days, when people died forever. So he kept himself dead as much as possible by immediately killing himself when he was reborn. Over the years Katie noticed that while Ed’s body repaired itself and looked to be functioning properly, he had become paler and more obsessed with being in his death state. Maybe the state of constant death was bad for Ed’s mind. But Katie didn’t dwell on that thought too much longer that, since Ed would be dead in two minutes anyways.

Katie almost made it all the way home, until she remembered Donna’s cat needed to be fed, those creatures died permanently if not cared for, Katie remembered as she took a left down an ally next to her home.

“To die or not to die! This is your choice!” A man yelled from a street corner as he waved fliers in Katie’s direction. He shoved a pamphlet into her hands before she could object. The man walked quickly down the street with more pamphlets after a group of unsuspecting pedestrians. Katie was familiar with people like him, the “Cryo-nappers,” a slang term for people who freeze themselves in a death like state for an extended period of time in hopes that death will be permanent again when they awake. Katie tossed the flier. She was pretty sure no one was working on a cure for their semi-perminent death state. Why would they? Death was the ultimate disease. It was cured. There was no undoing it, only living with it.

Katie made it to Donna’s apartment and stopped to text her parents:

“Donna died again. I plan to as well. Check on cat and plant for D. See ya later.”

Katie walked to the nearest busy road, the one that ran across the bridge that Ed liked to jump from and waited for the next slew of traffic. Katie didn’t have to wait long before a few semi-trucks started to rumble up the incline of the road towards her. She was bored and quite frankly did not want to deal with anything for the next month, especially if that meant taking care of Donna’s stuff until she returned. Why was she always staying while Donna got a break from life? As a red and white semi-truck approached, Katie left the safety of the curb to position herself in front of it’s path too soon for it to stop or even brake. Before the light left Katie’s eyes she silently prayed it would never return.

The last moments of death row inmate

Another story prompt for a friend 🙂

I’m not afraid, I know I’m supposed to be, but I just can’t help being excited, finally a chance to see the great beyond. Who wouldn’t be excited? I had an entire list of things I wanted to get done. My guards were silent and stoic as they escorted me from my cell to cement room with a large plexiglass window, one I recognized from movies. Once in the room I hummed a little tune as I walked ahead of the guards and climbed into the gurney, impatiently waiting for someone to strap me in, as I know they would.

“These will be tight,” a male wearing a white lab coat patted my arm and placed straps across my arms, elbows, chest, legs, and then my ankles. “Right, Right, Get to it,” I said as I waved my hand.

“Small poke for the IV,” said another man in a lab coat on the right side of me.

“Of course,” I chirped back to him, pumping my arm a little bit so a good vein popped out.

“Button up your shirt, fix your boots,” snapped the warden as he entered the room. “I will not be all over the damn news with you men looking unprofessional!”

“My dear,” said an older chaplain of an undetermined religion as he bent over me and spoke softly “would you like to pray with me or confess your sins. Jesus forgives all sins and wrongdoings, if you believe.” He must have been to his fair share of bed-side death watches, he looked fatigued and tired but truly wanting to help and maybe he had a hint of pity in his eyes. I thought the least I could do was put his mind at ease.

“You know the people in here have done a wonderful job, truly they are top notch professionals, don’t you think? They have this killing people down to a science, I feel really good about my situation! I’ve never done this before ya know,” I motioned to my body strapped tightly on the gurney. Smiling widely up at him as I continued, “the Lord and I couldn’t be any closer and I have never done a thing in my life to offend Him. I think you know that,” I winked at the clergyman.

He licked his lips, looking a bit unnerved, “Well…I’m glad you are not under more duress then what is required.. in.. this…uh..situation,” his voice trailed off at the sight of my beaming smile. He turned and nodded to the warden, and then quickly walked off. The warden said nothing and signaled to the guards and medical staff. The curtains covering the plexiglass window opened. The bed rose and tilted me forward so I could see my audience.

There were quite a few more people than what I expected and my eyes took in the crowd. My, my! Aren’t I the popular one – standing room only! Grinning in approval, I attempted to nod my head towards many of the faces I recognized as my followers. I saw some cry and others call out.They were going to miss me, but I was content knowing they would carry on easily without me.

The speaker crackled, “Prisoner Katherine T. Jenkins has stated that she would like to address the room with her final words,” the warden’s voice filled both the plexiglass room and the viewing room. I could see my followers lean forward to hear my last peals of wisdom, and it warmed my heart. I do so love them dearly!

“You may speak,” the warden allowed as he pinned a small microphone to my shirt.

“Thank you all for coming,” I feigned solemnly. It took everything I had not to smile, look at all these people here to see me off! I was beyond thrilled! Some of the audience in the room giggled, others smiled, and still others openly wailed at the sound of my voice.

I didn’t say anything for a long moment, trying to think of what would be best. There was nothing to be sorry for, so an apology was off the table. I didn’t have enough time for a sermon like my followers would want, and then I decided honesty was definitely the best policy.

“I have truly enjoyed my time here. And since this is just the beginning for me, I know I will see all of you again….very soon.” I smiled with sincerity and honesty in my voice.

The roomed hushed for a split second before pandemonium broke out in the viewing room. All at once my followers rushed to the plexiglass window, others started bashing their heads against the wall, while still others had found sharp objects and were stabbing themselves.

I laughed in delight! This is how someone should die! Together with the people they loved and as the main event at a party!

“I’m ready warden! Stick it to me!” I called over my shoulder as my eyes flashed in merriment, excited for what would come after I left this decaying body of mine.

Why would you do this?

It’s called a writing prompt. You’ve seen me do them before and here are some more. Just a short story that’s mildly entertaining…

The prompt: “Why would you do this”

Why would you do this?” my mother pleaded with me again. I ignored her tears and pushed her out my bedroom door. Locking it as she fell into the hallway.

“You were such a happy little boy, Kyle…” I didn’t hear the rest of her pleas, since I was busy packing my bag with clothing and what little money I had. I figured I probably didn’t have long before she called the police.

I opened my bedroom window, and surveyed the roof and the ground below. Throwing on my jacket and backpack  I climbed out confidently onto the roof. My mother continued crying and pounding on the bedroom door. Lowering myself down off the roof, I hung there thinking about how to fall just right so I wouldn’t wreck my knees or my ankles.Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself and dropped into a crumpled knee roll into our front lawn.

It was broad daylight and the neighbors had known my family for years, so I stood up, as if nothing had happened, and waved to Neil, who was mowing his lawn across the street. He smiled, shook his head, and returned the wave. Probably thinking that boys will be boys, good ole Neil. I walked quickly down my street of white picket fences, perfectly manicured lawns, and expensive homes to the nearest main road and waited for a bus.

I didn’t wait long until number 57 rolled up, this one would definitely take me to a transit station where I could literally go anywhere. Dropping my change in the machine I took a seat in the back next to the window.

The minute I met Carl, I knew something wasn’t right. I tried to tell my mom, but she wouldn’t listen. He was just too much of everything she wanted – polite, well dressed, handsome, and I had to give it to the guy, he was smart. I thought maybe I had been too hard on him, so I shrugged off the skin crawling feelings I got around him and let things go. That was until Socks, my cat I’ve had since I was 10 years old, disappeared.  Sure he was old and maybe a little blind, but he was a good cat.

Carl was convinced the cat had run away, but I knew better. I was on to his game. So I started investigating him, his computer, his cellphone, and I even tried following him around a bit, but found nothing damning. I almost gave up, until the day I came home and saw all my mother’s prized rosebushes had been cut down, dragged across our perfectly manicured lawn and thrown into the garden recycling bins.

I got into a fight with Carl that night. I wanted to kill him. How dare he harm my cat and now my mother’s rose bushes! I refused to speak to him after that and begged my mother to break up with him. She always sighed heavily, avoided my gaze, and would simply say no. This controlling maniac had imprisoned my poor mother!

The weeks had gone by slowly, without further incident and I hoped maybe things had calmed down. But I was wrong. Monday, the first week of finals, I woke up and went through my usual routine. I took a shower, dressed, and ate breakfast, and then headed out the door. But when I opened the door leading to what should have been our beautiful lawn, I was welcomed instead by the distorted dead bodies of at least a dozen animals. Bird’s with empty sockets stared blankly and unmoving at me, squirrels holding their own entrails laid out in a circle, decapitated raccoons piled on top of each other, and rats strung up like Christmas lights hung limply from our porch.

My mother’s horrified expression and fainting spell said everything I needed to know. Carl had to die. I know it might have seemed drastic, but something had to be done before things got any worse.

I killed Carl two weeks later. My mother had gone to the store to pick up our weekly grocery list. I knew I had an hour alone in the house with him. He was working in the backyard, bent over the tomatoes bushes, his back to me. It was almost too easy. I just hit him once with my baseball bat that I kept under my bed. He went down like a ton of bricks. I dragged him to our shed and laid him out on a piece of plastic. He started to moan, so I duct tapped his hands, his legs, and his mouth. Then silenced him with my Boy Scout hatchet.

Before the blood could spread too much I wrapped him up in the plastic sheeting and duct tapped him tightly. Maybe I should have moved him, thinking back on it now. It would have saved me the trouble of having to run, or seeing my mother cry.

“Kyle,” I heard my mother say softly, but my eyes were so heavy I had a hard time opening them. I stirred instead letting her know I could hear her.

“Kyle,” another man’s voice floated through the air. It did not register with me at first. But when I finally understood who it was, my eyes flew open by themselves. It was Carl!

“No,” I croaked and tried to raise my hands, unsure if I wanted to block his gaze or choke him. My hands stopped in mid-motion, restrained by leather cuffs. I was tied to a bed! I stared around the plain white room and thrashed around my scratchy thin mattresses.

“Where..AM I?!” I screamed, my muscles flexing to get out of my bed.

“Kyle, you’re at Dr. Miller’s hospital,” my mother was attempting to sooth me and hide her growing fear. I could hear the pitch change in her voice.

That pitch change, changed me as well. I stopped thrashing and stared at Carl. He was why I was here. He made my mother afraid. I was going to make sure he died this time.

“Let me go,” I tried to mask the dangerous edge to my voice with feigned calmness.

“Ah, you’re awake,” came another familiar voice, Dr. Miller.

“Kyle, how are you feeling,” he asked me pleasantly enough. I didn’t answer him. I had more important things to do. Carl was still alive and he was next to my mother.

“Kyle,” I stopped Dr. Miller mid-sentence, “He’s not here right now.”

“Alright, Max,” the doc said knowingly. My mother, bit her lower lip, Carl looked away.

“Max, can you tell me what happened to Socks,” he continued to speak to me calmly, as if that would help.

“The cat knew too much so I got rid of it. Plus, I wanted Kyle to get on board with killing the chump over there,” I said bluntly. No reason to hide it. The old thing should have died years ago. The doctor nodded and wrote something.

“Can you tell me what happened to your mother’s rose bushes, Max” he continued his line of questioning.

“I wanted to warn the bitch that Carl was bad news,” I spat, upset he wouldn’t release me; I tested the restraints once more. The doctor didn’t seem to notice.

“And, can you tell me, Max, what happened to the animals on the lawn,” he prodded me again.

“CARL needed to know!” I yelled as I thrashed towards him. The sudden movement scared the people in the room, who involuntarily took a step back from me, “I’m going to KILL him – even without Kyle’s help!” I spat at Carl and lunged again.

The doctor, removed his glasses and ushered Carl and my mother out of the room. As my mother tearfully left the room I heard her say, “Why would you do this?”

 

Man Hair – It’s Time For Some Advice

In the interest of taking this blog up to another level, I’ve decided to get into something that weighs heavily on people’s minds, that can be controversial, and something that affects every American: Man Hair. Whether it’s on the face or the back, it’s time for us to have a real conversation about how to spot it, how to manage it, and above all, how to get a lady’s approval for it.

FACE HAIR:

This argument goes back to the time of the caveman. They had tons of body hair and were happy. These men were allowed to keep said body hair because shaving didn’t exist and women didn’t know any better. But today, with a plethora of man beauty products, women just can’t understand why men avoid shaving. So let’s get real. Facial hair is fine as long as you follow these easy tips:

– Don’t Hitler out or pedophile up your ‘stache. Nothing says I don’t want to go on a date EVER AGAIN, like keeping that kind of hair on your face.

– Don’t let your beard be a food catcher. You know who you are! Those guys who let food drop from their hands and mouths into their unkept beard for later. W.R.O.N.G.

– Don’t make side burns a fashion statement. Leave those whack designs at your mommas house, cause the a ladies aren’t buying what you’re selling.

CHEST HAIR

This is THE great debate that has divided the world: to keep or not to keep the chest hair. Male models would have us believe that the only way to stroll along the beach is with giant pecs, perfect tan and without chest hair. But I submit to the readers, did not Logan, aka Wolverine from X-Men, have chest hair and was not he one fine-a** looking man?? YES! So chest hair can be acceptable if you follow these simple rules:

– Keep it under control. If it is coming out of the top of your crew neck shirt and waving to people, you’re going to need to take it down a notch and rethink your chest hair strategy.

– If your chest hair looks like a sherpa rug you got at Ikea and animals are nesting in it, then it is deifnitely time you went for the “smooth as a new born baby” look.

– Last, but certainly not the least, there should be a distinct gap between your chest hair and your face hair. IF there isn’t, the ladies aren’t going to be impressed and you need to start rethinking your life decisions.

HEAD HAIR

Look, I don’t want to tell you how to live your life, BUT women do notice the hair you have on your head. Why? Because we’re women and we spend oodles of time looking at our own, so of course we’re going to look at yours. And now the good news: we are more accepting of your bush of hair, luscious locks, or baby smooth baldness. If you can remember a few things:

– Cleanliness is next to godliness. Are you one of those guys who likes to haul your head of hair around in a beanie and wait out the six weeks because after that who can really tell anyways? Then we need to talk. Simply cleaning your head of hair regularly will go miles with impressing those ladies you’d like to attract. And let’s face it, people are not oblivious to your stench….

– While I can appreciate a man’s attempt at ‘styling’ their hair, LESS is MORE. Using an entire handful of gel/wax/weird goop to make your hair rock hard and unnatural looking is not ok, and blowing drying your hair so it has more volume than mine is not impressive – in fact we lady folk hate hair competitors.

– Now for my men who don’t have the goods up top. Look, I know you think combing over long pieces of hair somehow makes it seem like you do have hair, but it doesn’t. It would be best for you to embrace your baldness, rock it like no ones looking, and like you planned to have no hair.  It’s way sexier for you to own the no hair you have, then trying to find ‘creative’ ways to wear the little hair you do have.

Remember: The decisions you make today will effect your chances with the ladies tomorrow.

All things Korean

For awhile there my sister and I got lost in Korean Dramas (subtitles and all). I’m almost positive it accounts for some of the missing months of no blog entries. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I love Korean stuff. Since it has already been established that I am a super nerd, you won’t mind my entry being all things Korean for a bit. And heck, you may want to go check it out yourselves!

Most obviously the food. I ❤ Korean food like a fat kid who loves cake. You cannot keep kimchi anywhere near me if you’re trying to save it for later. Why save it, if you can eat it now??? If you’ve never had Korean food, you’re missing out on life. Seriously, there is never a time when I don’t want Korean food. Oh, I just ate Thanksgiving dinner and I have problems moving? YES I still want Korean food.

Korean Dramas (already mentioned previously) are not your run of the mill TV shows. They are over the top dramatic and full of twist, turns, and awkwardness galore – it is seriously addicting! To really understand the dramas you need to understand the culture. For example, personal space is a big deal and people don’t touch each other regularly. So if guy hugs a girl, its pretty much like you just had sex. That in and of itself makes Korean dramas even more crazy to watch. Fighting!

Korean fashion. For petite people like me, Korean fashion is a dream come true (Shop Korean Clothing). The stuff is made with tiny people in mind. No more long arms or pants legs, or dresses you wish were just a few inches shorter so you could look less Amish. But I know what you’re thinking, what makes Korean fashion better than let’s say Chinese fashion?? Well, just like anything in the fashion industry, it’s really about preference. I personally think Korean fashion is better looking and more in line with what you could get away with in America. Admittedly some of the Asian fashions we just can’t pull off, no matter how hard we try…

Korean beauty products. They are widely known in the beauty industry for being the forerunners of all things awesome. Yeah, that BB Cream you love – guess who invented it and who does it the best- yup! The Koreans 🙂 Everything I use on my face is Korean made- make up, cleansers, masks and moisturizers! Oh My! And lucky me, I found the best place EVER to buy all my products SOKO GLAM <—this site brings you the best beauty products Korea has to offer at reasonable prices, with tips and tricks to make your skin look amazing!

KPOP OR Korean Pop Music. And no Korean culture nerd would be complete without some mention of the love of KPOP music phenomenon. These are some seriously talented people and it’s such an interesting niche in the Korean culture. Watching some of the K-Dramas will help explain a little about what KPOP is all about. Want to listen to some:
Henry – Trapped
G-Dragon – Crooked

So I hope you learned something new or maybe even liked some of the stuff I’ve introduced to you…OR maybe you’re just as nerdy as I am and have been obsessing over how cute Jeremy is, Banila cream is part of your double cleanse routine, and G-Dragon has always been your favorite KPOP star!

Hello Story Prompt

He should have never let her into the apartment, but saying no and making smart choices was never his strong point.

“Admit it, you are impressed!” She said loudly over the noise of the vacuum while she pushed a large red and chrome machine up and down his living room on his not so very clean carpet. Admittedly, the carpet did look nicer, but Josh had no intention of purchasing a three thousand dollar vacuum, even if this lady had a nice rack and great legs. He let her continue talking incessantly about what a great value the hoover could be for his home, as long as she kept cleaning his carpets.

Maybe if Josh had been paying more attention to the woman than his phone he would have seen the her pull out a syringe and maneuver around behind him. But, Josh was never one for situational awareness or making good decisions and that is why he was now tied and gagged in the trunk of a moving car. Of course, Josh tried every TV and movie trick he could think of to get out of his bonds, but nothing seemed to work and even his phone was missing.

The more he thought over the situation, he was sure the petit woman could not have carried his football like build down four flights of stairs alone. This mildly irritated Josh since he wasn’t sure who would be packing him up in the trunk of car, but he was sure things like this very rarely ended well. Josh didn’t owe anyone money, never killed anyone, had a boring job selling used cars, clearly not rich, and the more he thought about it the more confused he became. Why would anyone want to kidnap him?

The car abruptly stopped, jolting Josh awake, even though he didn’t remember falling asleep. He could hear voices coming around to the back of the car, and he prepared to fight whoever opened the trunk.  The sudden flood of light from the opened trunk made him jerk his head back slightly to adjust his eyes. Two sets of large hands grabbed him as he resisted, as much as he could with bound hands and legs.

This only seemed to mildly annoy his hooded captors, who were clearly accustomed to dealing with less than cooperative captives. Carrying him to a chair, they forced him to sit, while they undid his restraints only to retie him to the chair. He fought them again, while gazing around the empty room, hoping to find something to help him escape. There’s always a chance someone was stupid and left some keys or sharp object around.

He settled into his new position sighing inwardly with disappointment at the non-existent help in the absolutely empty room. The men said nothing and Josh said nothing, as he waited for something to happen. Being physically restrained in an empty room, with two very large masked men never ended well in any movie he had seen.

A man in pristine white lab coat entered carrying a clipboard. He look about the same age as his father, except the man was balding and had a pair of square wire framed spectacles perched on his nose.

“Josh Kizinski,” he read off his clipboard as he looked as Josh, clearly noting similarities to Josh and a photo he had and  continued:

“Age 24, Blood Type AB positive, former college athlete, works for Smith Motor Company, no spouse, no children, no immediately family,  attempted to join the U.S. Army but failed medical inspection, diagnosed with terminal cancer two months ago.” The lab coat man stopped speaking and studied Josh over his spectacles, as if he was searching for the cancer himself.

Josh’s eyes gave away the shock and surprise at how truthful all the information had been. Who were these people and what did they want?

“My employers want to help you… live,” the lab coat man was mechanical as ever as he turned to gesture at the door to introduce two pale, bald, large eyed creatures. Walking in sync with each other, the creatures moved next to the lab coat man. With a wave of a pale, long fingered hand, the lab coat man bowed slightly to the creatures as he moved out of their way. Their large dark reflective eyes bored silently into Josh’s.

Nothing but the word ALIEN came to his mind. These tall, skinny, mouthless beings fit the very profile of creatures described in every movie Josh had seen! Maybe if he hadn’t been so preoccupied at staring at the aliens, Josh would have noticed the lab coat man pulling out a syringe and maneuvering behind him. But, Josh didn’t care about the lab coat man, being tied up, or even kidnapped. He wanted to speak to the aliens to ask all the questions he thought about while watching his movies.

“Brrrrrrinnnnngggggg. Brrrriiiinngggggg” Josh sat up quickly in his bed and instinctively picked up his phone and muffled a greeting.

“Mr. Kizinski,” said an annoyed woman on the other end, “You’re late for your doctor’s appointment. If you can make it here in the next 20 minutes the doctor will see you. But if you can’t, you’ll have to schedule something for next week.” Josh didn’t answer for a moment trying to think back to what he remembered last, a woman and a vacuum. But then thought of his next doctor appointment, which was for next Wednesday, but today was Thursday not next Wednesday.

“Mr. Kizinski are you there, Sir? Sir?” she said insistently.

“I’ll be right in. Thank you for the call”Josh said hurriedly and hung up the phone without hearing the woman’s response. Josh felt odd like he had lost time, and his body seemed lighter than usual. Maybe seeing his doctor would help him remember or explain the uneasiness he felt about this time lapse and nagging feeling that something had changed. Grabbing his shoes and jacked Josh stumbled out his door.

“Mr. Kizinski, I don’t…I don’t know how to say this,” Dr. Pierson looked shaken and his face drained of color, “You are..cancer free,” his voice cracked with emotion as he smiled at Josh.

Getting Back into the Game

While I haven’t made too many overtures about what I do in my off time -besides my World of Warcraft hobby-  I would like to state that I am equally, if not more obsessed with, working out and eating clean (well my version of eating clean).  So with good news from my doctor, who said I can start back into my working out obsession (I’ve had an entire Y-E-A-R off) -albeit taking it in little tiny baby steps- I can’t help but start planning my return into the exciting and awesome world of fitness!

Even though I am super excited to get buff and be in shape again, I haven’t been this out of shape in over ten years and I am literally starting from the bottom – you know those work outs without weights, low impact, and barely making it past 20 mins- and 30 mins on a good day. I also forgot about how much time and energy it takes to keep up a proper work out routine and eat clean. I am definitely working on rediscovering my motivation and I have a whole new respect for people who are starting this stuff from bottom (even lower than I am–without the background and without the previous gains I’ve made).

To this end I have come up with a few my own tips to get back into (or start) working out and eating clean:

1) Set a goal. Do you want to fit into a bikini better? Do you want some serious definition in those arms? What about doing a race? When you come up on those days where you really just DON’T want to hit the gym or eat that apple, think about why you even are doing this in the first place. 

2) Don’t start everything all at once. So yes, you want to eat clean AND want to work out six days a week- Great- but make that a goal, and not starting ALL of that tomorrow. Try adding something new once a week or once every few weeks. So maybe this week, you will work out three days a week and start cutting out that processed food – like no more potato chips (those are my ultimate weakness!!). And maybe next week, you up your workout to 10 mins longer or add some weights. Trying to do everything at once will only set you up to be stressed out and likely fail at whatever you’re trying to accomplish.

3) It’s ok to quit. This one is tricky. Every trainer will tell you to push yourself during your workout–which is absolutely true. BUT at the same time you have got to know your limits and what your body can and cannot take. Those mental games trying to get you to quit– you’re going to need to fight those. And then there’s the “body is going to get hurt” feeling and those ones you have got to listen to. For people like me, I know what I was capable of doing and it’s hard not to push myself to do it again- even though my body isn’t ready for it.

4) Music. Let’s get pumped while you’re at the gym and before that workout- no better way than some tunes, comfortable or flattering clothes for the gym, and possibly a pick-me-up drink. Get your head in the game before you even start working out. It’s guaranteed to help you focus on that workout and hit it harder than  you would have normally. And talk yourself up- think about what you’re going to accomplish and feel that BEAST MODE I know you have inside you!

5) Put your gym clothes and shoes on. For some reason once they’re on, I find it’s extremely hard to talk myself out working out. So when you’re not feeling the gym, at least get your gear on, by that point you’re already dressed–might as well work out.

6) It’s ok to eat a piece of chocolate. Look, clean eating is NOT a diet. It’s watching what you eat and making the best choices possible for natural healthy food. But let’s get real, sometimes you need a scoop of ice cream and that’s OK! Don’t beat yourself up over that ice cream…just don’t eat it all day-everyday. Life is meant for fun- just take care of yourself while you’re doing it.

7) Don’t compare yourself to other people. You may be more fit or less fit that other people in class or at the gym- it doesn’t have anything to do with you. You answer to yourself and that’s it. If there are people who need to say something or give you a look, just remember they clearly aren’t there to seriously work out OR they’re insecure so they feel the need to watch or comment on others. And if you feel the need to give a look or say something –see my previous sentence.

8) AND if all other motivation fails you, repeat this mantra: 

I Miss America

I wouldn’t say this happens to everyone, but it does to many Americans who live overseas for an extended period of time. In my case, I’m going on five years and by the time my husband and I are scheduled to leave it’ll be a little over eight years since I’ve lived back in the good ole U.S. of A.  As an American living overseas, it’s always nice to meet another American or have American friends, so together we can make lists of things we miss (like frozen yogurt and customer service), nostalgically remember America, and  day dream about returning to the states and how fabulous our return will be.

Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of things we DO NOT miss about living in America, but this is not the blog entry. It doesn’t make me anti-American to dislike the U.S. sometimes, it makes me an American…we can easily love and hate our country every day.

Here are a few things I plan to do when/if I get back to the great U.S. of A :

 

1) Walk through stores….But not necessarily shopping or buying anything in particular. I started with naming specific stores I would walk through, and then realized I would probably walk through just about any store, even 7-11, just to see the selection and what’s new. Americans don’t realize how many options they have and America always gets the new stuff first. Not only do we have options and newness, but we have the cheapness. I love paying in dollars versus pounds. You know what else I like about stores, they’re open, clean and convenient (there’s some sort of store on every corner!).

2) Put Screens on my windows… and as simple as that might sound, when the mosquitos are eating you alive and the spiders live nonchalantly in your house year round, you tend to miss the simple things in life- like a screen on your window. With the screens on my windows, I also want air conditioning. That means in my house, at the movies, in the stores, in restaurants…I want it ALL! It is an entirely new experience to go shopping in department stores and be hot, smelly and downright uncomfortable. How can you spend money in a place like that? Don’ t they want my money (see customer service #4)?!

3) Eat myself silly…this must be the biggest conversation topic among Americans overseas- how we miss our food, how there’s so many options and it all tastes so freakin’ good. Eating food and discussing food is literally our #1 pass time.

4) Ask Customer Service a question and get an answer… When we, Americans who haven’t lived in America for awhile, return to our great country we are bombard with helpful customer service. We are floored that the lady who asked us if we need help, actually wants to help us! Not only does she ask me once, but her co-workers will ask me again and genuinely mean it. It kind of freaks us out..in a good way! Customer service here amounts to you hunting for a store representative, only to be told they have no idea what you’re asking for AND can’t possibly help you AND they don’t know anyone in the store that could help you anyways. So basically you should just leave because you’re bothering them.

5) Park for free at restaurants, movie theaters, shopping malls, my own house, doctor offices, beauty salons, your mom’s house …

Trip to Venice Part I

I’ve decided I won’t narrate how the entire trip went…only the crazy that went on. I personally thought Venice was…nice. Would I go again…probably not.

I have this uncanny ability to be horrendously ill every time I travel somewhere and at least spend two days doing nothing but getting acquainted to the inside of place I’m staying. So without fail, since I planned my trip to Venice months in advance I caught the flu. My illness did not deter me from taking a flight out of country, an hour long bus ride, a water bus/taxi ride nor did it stop me from lugging my bags a quarter of a mile and up a few flights of stairs –I’m a boss like that 😉

My husband, my two sisters and I stayed in a small apartment in Venice located in the Cannaregio section at the top of Venice:

We booked our place through a little website called Airbnb. This site hooks you up with people around the world who rent out rooms/homes/apartments/motor homes to travelers.  So after the long day and being horrendously ill, we found our flat with keys in a little lockbox outside the complex. I will note here that the landlord was NOT super clear on which keys I should take, which door I should try or which floor I was on. For those who have not been to Italy or to Europe, apartments are found relatively anywhere a stone, spiral, ungodly-narrow staircase can fit. Since the landlord wasn’t clear which door to try, I went up the first flight of stairs, my family in tow with all of our luggage to the first door we come to.

I’m not sure who was more surprised- the half dressed Italian man who was rummaging through his fridge when I opened the door -or me the English speaking girl who had no idea what’s going on or what he’s saying.  Oddly enough, while he was surprised, the guy didn’t seem too concerned other people had keys to his place or that he was half dressed. In fact, I’m pretty sure he and his probable boyfriend wanted us to come in for a drink?  Italians are such nice people! A quick call to the landlord again and apparently we were on the next floor. With a thousand apologies we headed up another flight of stairs.

I will be the first to admit I do not like to “rough it” when I travel, in fact it’s quite the opposite. I like to be as comfortable and pampered as possible. Our apartment didn’t “meet” those expectations, but I also refuse to let uncomfortable beds, zero air conditioning and a shoebox size place deter me or my travel companions from having a good time!

I honestly I’m not sure what my husband and sisters did that evening since I was too sick to go anywhere. But they did show me selfies and pictures of my youngest sister drinking a giant stein of beer. So what did I do that evening? Well…I found something interesting…our flat like all places in Venice was near the water and we were sharing that water space with a million mosquitos- who live fat and happy lives eating tourists to death. While I didn’t know there was million that night, the next day confirmed my suspicions. All across the tiny apartment in the bedrooms, the bathroom and kitchen were smashed mosquito bodies. They had died clearly at the hands of other disgruntled guests–in very odd places. And thus began our trip to Venice.

My Secret Past Time

If you were to look at me you’d never guess that after a long hard day at the office I like to come home, whip open my laptop, load up World of Warcraft (WoW) and unwind for a few hours questing on my character.

That’s right. It’s that online game that super nerdos play where you choose a character and run around in a made up world. I have a fabulous time completing quests, working on achievements, building up the gear (stuff your character wears and is mostly the point of the game—to get good gear) on my favorite toon (that’s game slang for the character you play) and horsing around with my little brother—who happens to play as well. There’s a healthy sibling rivalry going on…

Of course there are times when I’m cursing at other players for stealing that herb I was going to collect, or killing something I need. And yes I run dungeon scenarios – where there’s a group of people working together (could be people you know or don’t know) to kill big ole monsters-to complete some quests and to get that gear for your favorite toon. So now you know just how nerdy I really am!

For you non-Wowers there’s tons of other stuff to do in the game, not just get gear to keep yourself busy. To name a few: holidays in the game that mimic real holidays (like Valentine’s Day), random goodies and toys, games to play, and hidden treasures around the world to collect. And let’s be honest, one of my favorite things to collect are mounts—things your character can ride/fly on while playing. Oh what’s that you say?? What’s my favorite mount?? Well that’s a tie between my blue/white lion that has a beard and wings and my color changing dragon. I use the term dragon loosely though—since its got giant bug eyes with a helmet and fat legs…and when I describe the mounts that way, maybe they don’t sound as cool…?

I’ve played WoW on and off forever- literally before any of the expansions came out and the level cap was 60. Did I mention I was also in a top guild for gear?? For those WoW nerds reading it—you just did a double take—and for those who have not a clue what that means, it’s like I was around during the 1800s and now it’s the 2000s. I am that old.

I remember when this happened

I’m also not what people usually would consider a stereotypical WoW player– I’m a woman, have plenty of real friends and other past times like blogging and I also feed, exercise, and bathe myself regularly. At the same time there are days where I will spend a good couple of hours messing around on my toon and hanging out with my online friends doing WoW stuff cause let’s face it—it’s just fun! Nothing says “worth it” when you finally get that epic headpiece that’s taken a month!

Because I am a true WoW player I do have things I dislike about the game. For instance, because I’ve played so long I constantly have to readjust to the next new expansion…it’s annoying when you’ve got great gear but it becomes useless once the expansion hits. I’ve also noticed that people in WoW can be quite rude, demanding and too obsessive for my taste—so often times I like to play on my own (avoid dungeons and guilds) and that way I’m not tied to being online longer than what I want to be. I’ve got more in-depth WoW nit-noid things I don’t like, but really only another WoW player will actually understand my verbal garbage.

Last, but certainly not the least, for my fellow WoW nerds reading this who are interested in my toons (and for those who would like a taste of WoW-ness they are totally missing out on):

I have one level 100-night elf hunter, marksmen/survival—I prefer marksmen and a PvE server- my ilvl should be higher but I refuse to play in dungeons with jerkface people. I’ve also done my fair share of PvPing. I level slowly…just saying. My other two toons: 96-Draeni Priest discipline/shadow. I survive a lot longer as discipline—but played shadow almost the entire time I leveled; 88- Worgen Druid feral—both tank and dps. Tank is the bee’s knees for leveling. Am I right?!

I have other toons but these are the ones I take seriously and actually level and are in guilds. Of course other WoW players will already have picked up on the fact that I’m playing mostly alliance—not horde. But that’s not to say I don’t roll horde on other servers. Translation: I also play opposing faction of horde characters on different servers- I don’t discriminate. I like trolls, undead, and blood elves.

I hope I didn’t get too much into the weeds that non-WoWers couldn’t follow me. If any of these things didn’t make sense feel free to ask me questions or google it—or dare I say go try out the WoW world yourself 😉