It’s been a while since I’ve posted my latest weight training workout.

Mainly because despite the fact that I’ve been going to the gym, I’m feeling rather pudgy- largely due to all the crap I eat. Like if I tell you how hard I’ve been working out I also have to confess that I literally ate KFC for dinner yesterday and pizza for lunch today- and had a giant piece of cheesecake this afternoon.

Oh- and I’m not lying about that.

Um- yeaaah it just doesn’t seem right.

Anyway- despite my awful eating habits, I’ve still been consistent with the gym. So- without further awful greasy fatty food excuses- here’s what I’ve been doing since the beginning of April.

For the sake of time I’ve decided to split my workout into halves. I do my lower body one day and my upper another. I know a lot of people have “push” days and “pull” days, or do a variety of different body workouts, but my whole school of thought for this workout was to keep it simple. I have my next workout planned (which I’ll start at the beginning of July) and after that I may try the whole push-pull thing, but we shall see. I’ve never done more than 2 sets when working out. The thought of doing more freaked me out, but for variety and to change up my workout I’ve upped the sets for this particular workout.

Here is my leg workout:

- 1 set of raised “stationary” lunges (15 in a set)
I call them stationary lunges because I utilize the stair step (the actual step you would do aerobics with- but take off the extra panels that make them higher) and place one leg on that doing lunges one leg at a time on the step. I don’t feel like walking around doing lunges in my small gym, so this works. I use 15 pounds- mainly because I’m a wimp. I think next week I might do a couple sets of 15 and a couple of 20 pounds.

Followed by a set on the ab machine.

Followed by a set on the leg extension machine (10-12 in a set)

Followed by the abs again.

Followed by a set of leg curls (the machine- 10-12 in a set)

I do 4 total sets of the above. The lunges pretty much suck.

I then do a set on hip abductor.

I do abs again, but I use a different piece of equipment. I’ll use the chair or will do a plank… I just change it up.

Followed by a set on the inner thigh machine.

I do two sets of these (the hip and thigh machines), and then I use the cable machine to do 2 sets of side raises and inner thigh raises- with a set of abs in between.

I do two and sometimes three sets of calf raises. One set each of the following:

“normal” calf raises (what you probably think of when you do a calf raise)
calf raises with my toes pointed inward
calf raiseswith my toes pointed outward

Finished off with abs

Finally, if I have time, I do two sets of squats using the cable machine.

And then I go home and contemplate eating a Krispe Kreme (don’t worry, I don’t… usually).

Wow- I’m feeling tired already. Perhaps I will share my upper body workout tomorrow?

Time for bed. yay for Friday!

Forgive me friends for I have sinned. It has been several weeks since my last confession.

Because it’s been a while, I will plunge deep into my heart and provide you with quality, meaningful confessions.

Like this one:

1. My husband parks my car in the garage every.single.day.

No seriously- I swear.

I know.

Pathetic.

So here’s the whole back story.

When I was 16 I got a car and- like all 16 year olds- was very eager to drive and be TOTALLY responsible with it.

So the thing with my car was that it was really long and it barely fit in the garage. In fact, there were many times in which the garage door lightly smudged the back of my car. Not only that, but we had a two car garage growing up so it was a really tight squeeze fitting the car next to the big purple minivan. So- long story (somewhat) short- my parents parked the car in the garage for me. Yes, I was TOTALLY responsibile- but why risk me doing something stupid, right?

Right.

So- one night I was being TOTALLY responsible and coming home late. Instead of calling my parents and telling them that not only was I late, but I also needed the car put in the garage, I opted to be the “good” and helpful daughter and park the car myself.

As I pulled the car in the rear right side of my car let out a painful cry of torture-

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH

I couldn’t stop! I kept driving, thinking it would be better.

It was worse.

Definitely worse.

I totally dented in the side big time. Plus the paint was destroyed.

Good job kid.

I know.

Anyway- ever since that I’ve been very leery of parking in tight spaces. Mostly because I suck. Mostly also because I have this reoccurring nightmare of doing something terribly stupid again.

So anyway, since we have the truck now it goes in the big part of the garage and we park my car in the third garage door, which is a tight squeeze (ahem- for me- not for anyone else, I’m sure).

Will knows this awful and totally embarrassing garage story, and although it’s been 10 freaking years, he still doesn’t trust me with “baby #2” (did you guys know that’s what he calls his car? I know- he’s crazy).

So there you go- I can’t park my own car in my garage. How’s that for a confession?

2. When it’s just me and Will eating at home I cover my baking dish in foil so I don’t have to wash the dish and instead just throw away the dirty foil.

Because I’m just that lazy. No other reason.

3.  Sometimes I pretend to be annoyed whenever I scoop ice cream (cookies and creme) for me and Will because “I’d rather he do it,” but the truth is that is that I totally love doing it because I always (always, always) give myself the giant pieces of cookies.

ha ha. I feel like I need to go to crunches after confessing that…

Anything you need to confess to lighten your load? 

"I’m 26 years old and I still loathe buying tampons. You’d think that was something I would have grown out of- but, no.

I wonder why, too? I mean- I realize it’s no big deal. I must admit, though, I really love when you go for me.”

“Yeah- but I don’t.”

“I know- but like I said, I hate it. When you go people know you’re just being a wonderful husband. They know they’re not for you. When I go, however, it is very, very clear that those super duper sized tampons are for me. Ha- or it could also be the gallon of ice cream I buy with them. That probably gives it away too. I mean- it’s this whole thing! Do you get a cart for the tampons, or do you tromp around the whole Wal-mart holding them discretely by your side while you casually walk to the entire other side of the store for the ice cream? Do you-”

(cutting me off)

“Brittny- lately it seems like anytime you talk about things or tell me stories it’s like you’re blogging.”

“Nooo. You’re crazy. I just like to drone on about things.”

And then I hopped out of the truck and began my tampon/cookie dough mission (thinking all the while about telling you guys about standing in front of the cookie dough section holding a jumbo sized box of tampons).

Um- between you and me? After assessing the most recent stories I’ve told Will this week? Yeah, he’s right. I totally talk in blog.

Today I had leftover chicken pot pie for lunch. It wasn’t too terribly awful for me so afterwards I decided to make lunch terribly awful by dipping vanilla wafers in a tub of peanut butter (I KNOW! So awful).

Oh, and before we move on to the rest of the story and I please, PLEASE tell you how much I hate calling those things mentioned above by their real name… “Nila” wafers? It makes me cringe. It’s like nails on a chalkboard and most definitely on the list of words I hate. It is for this reason I call them vanilla wafers- even if I’m wrong.

Anyway, I had about 6 vanilla wafers with peanut butter- straight out of the tub- and thoroughly enjoyed every awful second of it (until they were gone and I felt fat). It was at that point that I began to complain about my crappy eating choices.

I got in the car and headed back to work. It was on my way back I discovered I had several smears of peanut butter all over my right knuckles.

Like a kid.

Or a psychotic out of control binge eater.

Who gets peanut butter caked on their knuckles!? Who aside from the aforementioned categories!?!

It’s like having dorito crumbs tucked away in your neck fat, or dropping jelly on your shirt and licking it off. It’s awful. And desperate.

So-

as if that weren’t bad enough, instead of doing the normal, adult, 26-year-old-thing and taking a napkin and wiping the smeariness off, I stayed true to fat camp kid protocol-

licked it off,

and kept on driving.

I mentioned yesterday that Will surprised me with Dunkin Donuts on my birthday.

Did you know their slogan is “America Runs on Dunkin?”

Does anyone else see the hilarity in this slogan?

I’m pretty sure America does not Run on Dunkin. They waddle. 

I realize you don’t care what I had for lunch today or how nice people were to me yesterday but the truth is- I really feel like I need to post about the last few days in my life because I really want to remember them- and when you have a bad memory like me, it’s important you write everything down!

So Sunday was nice. Will’s parents showed up with a dozen roses for me, a homemade strawberry cake (with real crushed strawberries in it!), and my gift. It was so sweet. We also went out to Olive Garden for lunch. It was a nice Sunday.

From there the week continued to get better (okay- I realize we’re only mid-week...)

I’m not sure how long you’ve been reading, but if you’ve read since the Kuwait Days you know that most of the time I really, really hated my job (I’ve linked you to my “This Isn’t CTU” posts so you can take a walk down memory lane). Things were done so backwards. People were total unprofessional morons… it was tough. Moving back to America and working where I do now was such a giant shock. Like a tall glass of ice water with a squeeze of lime. Even after being here for almost a year I still have to pinch myself- and I always say, “Wow! It’s so weird working for a “real” company!”

It’s just so different.

So Monday I got to work and one of the ladies I work with on a regular basis (and was also the girl who was my secret pal) got me a Vanilla Frappuccino and a box of Crystal Light On the Go and wished me a “happy birthday week!” I thought that was so sweet.

Yesterday was so nice. Will surprised me with the I Love Lucy boxset (she’s so great) and Dunkin Donuts for breakfast.

I got to work and had this super duper cute bright pink box in my chair. I opened it up and there was the cutest Halmark Hoops and YoYo card. I’ve linked it here. You so have to check it out because it makes me laugh. What’s even funnier about it is that the guy that got it for me is gay. There was also the cutest Hoops and YoYo stuffed animal that talks and these really cute Hoops and YoYo sticky notes with funny sayings on it. It was the sweetest surprise.

Another coworker brought me a hilarious homemade card and breakfast for everyone (two pastries for me- on top of my donuts… wow… what a way to start off 26)

It was so thoughtful.

Then my “secret pal” coworker and boss surprised me with this giant coffee mug planter filled with gorgeous tulips! It was so sweet.

We went out to lunch and I ate more. Ugh. Fat.

I got back from lunch and there were more flowers on my desk! My parents and sister sent me the most beautiful bouquet. They’re so gorgeous and pink and happy and vibrant. It was the sweetest surprise.

After lunch there was more eating.

The Cheesecake Factory’s 30th Anniversary Cake.

Delish.

Seriously amazing…

You have no idea.

It was wonderful.

The only damper was that I had a dentist appointment yesterday- no cavities so I guess that’s a plus!

It was just a really nice series of days full of really thoughtful people and surprises.

Like I said- I’ve never had a good working environment before. It’s been such a blessing to be where I am.

Today the hits kept coming. My boss and coworker wished me a Happy Birthday Week again today. I told them to stop being so nice to me and they laughed and said- “No-you’re nice!” I opened the card they got me and it made me laugh. Check it out.

HA HA

So you’ll never guess what I got today.

Remember my purse post? I mentioned the fact that I’ve had my current purse for three years- and they did something about it. Today I got the most awesome pink purse! It was the sweetest thing ever. I felt so loved!

There are a lot of times in which I miss Kuwait. We came home at the worst.time.ever. Could the economy be any worse ( ha ha- say that like Chandler Bing when you read that)? However, it’s days like this week in which I remember that my working environment is a lot better than it was before and I’m really blessed.

So- my birthday week has been great.

So I know this post was a sucky read, but I needed to post it just for memory’s sake.

More to come- and less annoying happy personal life update crap.

Tomorrow we’re going to OU’s official Red and White game. It’s a scrimmage they do every year and is somewhat of a big deal around here- for sports fans anyway.

It’s funny to look back and see that four years ago this time I was doing the exact.same.thing. I guess life is cyclical a lot of times.

So- even though we’ve missed the last 3 Red and White games, Will and I are restarting this tradition. Although there are a lot of times during the week in which I miss our life in Kuwait, it’s days like today in which I think about how a normal American weekend sounds nice.

I’m trying to talk Will out of the Ted’s part though because it’s my “birthday week” and darn it- I should get to choose what we have, right!?

Okay- I know I’m stretching here…

So Saturday should be fun and I’m looking forward to it.

Oh- and did I mention I’m going to try my darndest to go to the gym before the game? In some really sick way I’m tempted to text The Gym Nazi to see if she wants to meet up with me….

Because I’m insane.

I’ll let you know what I decide.

If I don’t post in a few days please come looking for me as there’s a good chance my body parts will be strategically stuffed within gym equipment.

Oh wow- that would really be a bad way to go…

Okay no more psychotic murderous gym talk.

Anyway- so the verdict is still out about whether I’m going to text The Gym Nazi- but between the two of us? I so am.

Okay so anyway- Sunday is Easter.

Yay for Easter Sunday.

I’m not going to get into the whole importance of Easter discussion in this post, but I will say part of me is sort of blah about Sunday.

Okay blah AND excited.

If that’s at all possible.

And- I’m pretty sure it’s not…

Which therefore means I guess I need to choose whether I’m blah or excited.

…

How about we split the difference and just say I’m neutral about Sunday?

My in-laws are “surprising” me on Sunday because my birthday is next week. They’re going to drive to our house with a cake and my present and have lunch with us after church.

It’s really sweet and thoughtful- I know. Not only that, but Pat called Will and wanted to get me a birthday cake I really would like.

I seriously heart boxed strawberry cake with regular old canned vanilla frosting on my birthday, and Pat is going to take time out of her busy weekend to “surprise” me with my favorite cake.

I say “surprise” me because Will absolutely knows I would kill him if my in laws up and showed up without any sort of advanced notice.

I mean REALLY! He knows I have to create the fake house before people come over or he would be the one stuffed within a treadmill belt (um- totally kidding about that- don’t arrest me).

I guess the “blah” part is the creating the fake house part. I was really hoping I’d get to be lazy Sunday afternoon, but it doesn’t appear that will happen.

Oh well- it’s still a nice gesture and I should focus on that I suppose.

Please for my sanity say a prayer that Pat doesn’t say anything about the miracle of BIRTHdays and how they celebrate LIFE and how 26 years I was being BORN and how special NEW BORN BABIES are on their BIRTHday.

Because I seriously might launch a wad of strawberry cake up against the wall.

Ha-

Who am I kidding!? You guys know I could never waste a good cake.

That’s blasphemy.

Hello lovelies,

Saturday night in the big town, right?

Most of you are probably out and about having some wild Saturday evening, while I’m sitting in sweats on my couch having (another) night in.

Okay- so the truth is that probably more of you than I think are having the same sort of night in, right?

I say that to make myself feel better.

I hope I’m right.

Who cares if I’m not? We’re going with this notion.

I have refreshed my facebook homepage countless times.

Nothing.

I’ve held the flashlight for Will as he investigated a weird sound in the truck.

Woo.

Actually- it was a little fun (but please, whatever you do, don’t tell Will or I’ll be deemed his “tool holder” forever)- but after while I began to feel like a little restless kid helping their dad.

“A little more to the left.

A little more…

Britter! Stop shaking your arm!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sort of bored...”

That’s sort of how it went.

Plus we he still hasn’t figured it out.

And now Will is all crabby and worried.

Which makes for a thrilling Saturday night.

I was all geared up to watch 48-Hours Mystery tonight but the stupid NCAA games have gotten in the way.

Now that OU is out I really don’t care. My bracket has been hosed since Louisville got out so I don’t really care anymore.

I tried to look up the fat content of the burger I had tonight, but surprise, surprise there’s no nutritional facts posted.

I have no idea why not. I mean I’m sure their sausage cheeseburger isn’t that bad.

Puke.

Don’t worry, I didn’t get that- but Will did. It looked like a bleeding, throbbing, greasy heart attack.

Although- mine wasn’t much better either.

Hey! I guess we did get “out” tonight after all, right? I guess if you consider a hole-in-the-wall diner getting “out.”

So as you can see, my Saturday night has been less than exciting.

Even after my awful Cholesterol Burger of Death I’m still contemplating eating chocolate chips right of the bag.

Some would call that Boredom Eating.

I say they’re full of crap.

It’s been close to a week since I’ve mindlessly wandered the internet- and I guess it seemed like a thrilling thing to do on a Saturday night but the truth is- not really.

It’s pretty bad when you look at the clock and hope it’s “late” enough to go to bed.

It’s 10:00.

I have deemed that late enough.

I know what you’re thinking- you’re feeling sad for me, right?

Don’t worry- I’ll have my midnight chocolate chip snack a couple hours early and go straight to bed without brushing my teeth.

Such a thrill seeker.

Actually?

I have a dentist appointment (on my birthday no less! :( ) coming up.

I better not.

But maybe just maybe I’ll do something crazy tomorrow.

<3

More to Come

The following is an “everyday,” typical email exchange with my sister. My emails are in bold, hers are regular.I realize the fat talk gets old after a while, but I promise we switch topics from Panamanian prisons, to calculating tips, to even our own reality show during this conversation- so hang with me.These took place on two different days, but they flowed so well I lumped them together. Let the madness begin...

I just ate a whole pint of chocolate ice cream.

And it wasn’t even GOOD ice cream.

I think that that calls for me to use the elliptical tomorrow for the first time since last summer. I feel like I should celebrate this red-faced, sweaty momentous occasion with a donut or something.

**

Ha ha. I just had a large Java Chiller from Sonic- which is basically a whole pint of chocolate ice cream with a hint of coffee. I didn’t go to the gym at all this weekend and I had olive garden WITH dessert yesterday.

Fat.

**

Ughhh I KNOW. And- ugh i just don’t want to go back to school. I say we quit talking crap and book the tickets.

PS- I hope your Olive Garden dessert was good.

**

It was. Black tie. Yum. Plus I had fettuccine (um how in the world do people expect you to know how to spell that!?) which- well- you know how amazing that is.

We’ll sort all the logistics out when we get there. Although “fat,” I’m sure some Panamanian would love to give us a job at Panama Jacks waitressing. The only trouble is that I would suck at getting proper change and would most likely get us fired in a hurry.

**

Ha, that’s SO TRUE. Somehow the tip would be like “10% of 100” or something. Then we would get charged with embezzlement for taking an extra 80 dollars. Then wind up in Panamanian prison. Which wouldn’t be all bad, considering we could be the Scolfield’s. I definitely get Lincoln.

I’m sorry I can’t type properly, my fingers are so huge, swollen, and fat from the dairy I just consumed.

A flower shop would be nice! We could go the simple route an own a cafe, and employ Panamaniann business students (who know how to calculate tips so we wouldn’t be
getting screwed).

Are you at work?

**

We are so resourceful- your plan is brilliant! Actually- I used to think we sucked at being resourceful but then we went on the cruise and functioned totally fine in like 19 cities. I know for sure we’ll kick butt on amazing race one day.

I’m having 2 PB sandwiches for lunch. Why do I feel nostalgic all of a sudden? Like I need a blue mat to nap on and a carton of milk??

**

My favorite food ever. I decided a while back that if I was living on a deserted island alone for the rest of my life, peanut butter and/or reeses would DEFINITELY be my food of choice. Seeing as I wouldn’t have to worry about all the saturated fat I was consuming since I would never see anyone ever again, it works. What about you?

**

That is hilarious- and a very valid point. I think I would go with that too, or perhaps pasta. I could eat loads and loads and if I was able to take different sauces too (which is something I assume you have to negotiate in when preparing to go to a deserted island forever...) I’d be set for life.

And happy.

When do you leave for Kuwait?

**

I leave on your anniversary. Thank the Lord. Its been 3 weeks since I was there last and I feel like it’s been too long. How could anyone possibly think I like it here? AHHHH I need to start this Panamanian flower shop business ASAP.

**

We ought to make a countdown to the semester’s end and you move back. Seriously. What’s you’re last day of school? How fun would that be!? I could make the first half and you could make the 2nd half. We wouldn’t have to make it a chain or anything, but just something you could pull off and throw away.

The chain reminds me of the one in Mareena Towers. As crazy as it sounds, when I look back that summer was pretty fun

(Just FYI- if you’re curious you can read about this time during the summer of 2005 archives)

**
Oh my gosh me too. It was the weirdest time of my life, such a crazy transition period. I have a playlist for that summer titled “MIA” for 2 reasons: 1) we never left that apartment 2) M.I.A’s “bucky done gun” was a very integral part of that summer hahaha. But yeah, it’s so so bittersweet to think about that. It’s the last time we’ll have ever lived together under one roof.

**

I think we should SERIOUSLY send these back and forth emails to someone, plus our goofy videos and make them make us famous. We should have a reality show about creating our Panamanian flower shop. ha ha. How great would that be? Plus highly entertaining. Seriously- I’m in need of that. People are so fickle. Family is forever..

**

OMG YES, a reality show about the making of our new life. Do you know how well that would work? We could start this season while we’re still apart, so it would mainly focus on the emails. And then we could start season 2 when we’re in the same country and ahhhhhhh tiny orgasm, I think viewers would LOVE US. You live in America, the land of endless possibilities- make it happen!

**

sidenote- her email above makes me laugh every singly time. Tiny orgasm HAHAHAHA...

Seriously- I’m literally laughing out loud right now. It’s a little embarrassing and I’m glad everyone is gone to lunch.

**

Sorry to disregard your last email, but I blame you for the fact that I just consumed 7 servings of peanut butter with honey since you reminded me of peanut butter, which then reminded me that I still had some in my cupboard, and BOOO, NO ALLI.

Haha anyways, seriously? Will you PLEASE look into a director? Because even if we get one season and they hate us, we’ll still get a book deal (uh, you can write it) and then a few endorsements. OH! MAYBE WE CAN BE THE NEW FACE OF ALLI. I love it.

**

Very good and valid points. Okay so I assume you’re about to go to bed. Oh- and want to know something funny? I had no idea that we sprang (sprung HAHA springed? I have no idea...) forward this weekend. dad had to tell me. Too funny. Anyway- that means we’ll be an hour closer now so that’s really great!

Alright, I’m off to file some stuff. I’ll be in constant contact with you tomorrow. Have a good night and talk to you tomorrow!

**

Wait, ugh, I have no idea how many hours apart we’ve been this whole time. I usually just say 8, wherever I am in the world. “Oh you’re in Kenya, great, only 8 hours away!” “You’re in St.Petersburg, brilliant,. 12 your time, 8 my time” ……I never usually think there’s any other time in between. Please tell me we’ve always been 8 hours apart since I moved.

**

Just so you know- I’m lying when I tell you this- yes, we are 8 hours apart. I’m such a good sister, right?

<3

I know what you’re thinking.

I have a problem.

A drug problem.

That there is no such thing as “recreational” drug use.

That after one hit of Alli there is no going back.

You feel the high of controlling your fat intake because you’re terrified of crapping yourself,

the rush of oily farts as you think to yourself, “ Ohhh yeeahh, I am so addicted to this stuff. I <3 greasy gas."

You're right- that's exactly how it happened. Exactly how I became addicted.

It was that glamorous.

Okay not really-

after the first time I ate an order of mozzarella sticks, four cheese tortellini, half a loaf of bread, and a giant chunk of cheesecake I thought to myself, "I'll just take this one time."

One try won't hurt, right?

Before I knew it I was up to a three pill a day habit, figuring out when I was going to get my next fix. What I was going to eat- how much fat was involved....

trying to explain to Will how the hell the toilet was stained OSU orange…

before I knew it I was out of control!

P and I split a bottle- driving to every single Walgreens and CVS pharmacy trying to get our next fix- only we couldn't find any.

We began shaking and experiencing uncontrollable sweating and hallucinating- we were so addicted that we even drove to another city to secure another bottle of these little fat loss miracles.

As we split a "starter pack," ensuring we threw away the evidence in a dumpster three blocks away I felt a sense of peace. The shakes and scary flying goblins left my mind and I felt like myself again.

It was at this point- after driving to another city- that I realized I had a problem and I needed help.

Or maybe it was when P and I began to run low on our stash and actually contemplated cutting the pills open and using a credit card to separate the pills to get two hits out of one.

It could have also been at the point in which P and I turned the noun Alli into a verb- "Are you going to Alli after you eat that cheese pizza?"

"Are you going to Alli after scarfing down those three donuts?"

"We should probably Alli if we're going to eat these giant hamburgers at 1 AM."

Yeah, that might have been my low point.

My name is Brittny and I have an Alli-ing problem.

Not to be confused with the Alli side effects:

(sidenote: um- that’s pretty much freaking hilarious)

Yeah- it was at that point in which I decided I needed to get a hold of myself. Eating an occasional cheeseburger was far more desireable than crapping one’s self. Right?

I thought so too.

So, I got a hold of myself and became a “recreational” Alli user. It’s a lot easier to control- I’ll tell you that much! (ha ha!)

So there you have it- my drug problem and how I became a “recreational” user.

Anything weighing you down (if so- maybe you should “Alli")? Go ahead and share!