Archive | September, 2013

The Real Housewives of the Gym

24 Sep

Women are such interesting animals…Yes, animals. You have to wonder how men have co-existed and kept up with these crazed mental patients for so long. I mean if you really think about it, can you really blame them for suppressing the female population for as long as they did? Poor guys just couldn’t keep up…

But there is a particular group of woman who have brought a whole new definition to Mind-games. I’m no historian, but I believe the 50’s and 60’s social structure provided a prime environment for these women to evolve into mind-fucking masters, I’m talking about housewives. Dangerous, Devious and Dainty all in the same sentence.

housewife_happy

Now before all you housewives reading get your panties in a bunch and start throwing Dr. Oz’s latest recipe in my face, let’s at least admit you look forward to other activities that don’t involve cooking, cleaning or children…activities like the gym. I’m not saying it’s pathetic…I know for working women, the highlight of our week is casual Fridays so were not that far off. But when I joined a new gym this year and saw first hand how housewives interact with one another, my perspective on this group of women has really changed.

I’m not a fan of the gym and if it wasn’t for the multiple self-loathing sessions about the jiggly packs on my ass, I’d never set foot in that fat-burning hell hole. Eventually, reality sets in; you can’t eat like a 700lb man trying to maintain a 140lb stature without a little work-out here and there. Thus, I take group fitness classes (hell ya!) with a bunch of 40-50 year old housewives and have developed a whole new set of middle-aged girlfriends! This is exciting, because I believe middle-aged friends are better than 20 something-year-old friends, I just learn a lot more from them.

They teach me all about menopause, divorce and why 40 truly is the NEW 20. I even found out the reason why our trainer doesn’t incorporate any jumping exercises into our workouts. It’s because the older women almost always pee their pants. Apparently, after having a couple of children, jumping up and down makes you wet yourself.

A Great Motto To Live By

A Great Motto To Live By

These home warriors are a force to be reckoned with; once you piss them off, its war. Housewives have the time for a good, long battle so you can’t underestimate their power to fuck with your head.

Let’s digress…

Housewives have silent conflicts. They don’t exchange confrontational words or physical beatings, but instead use passive aggressive tactics to ruin your life. Sometimes, you don’t know your in a conflict until one day you walk into workout class and no body will talk to you, then you know the damage has been done.
Recently, I have gotten tangled up in this mess and it’s actually quite amusing! But before I dive in, let me first introduce you to my middle-aged workout friends…

Plasty

Plasty is purely plastic. Her boobs, her lips, her ass are all fake. She dyes her hair blonde and wears make-up to work out. PLASTY never sweats. According to her, ladies don’t sweat because ladies don’t need to work that hard, that’s what men are for. For a woman who doesn’t sweat, Plasty is as thin as a match-stick probably because she just eats steam and injects plastic into her veins to keep from absorbing any fat.

Plasty also gets really mad when she is behind me in circuit-station workouts (moving from one exercise to another). I sweat a lot and she gets annoyed that my sweat is sometimes left behind on a yoga mat or weight bench. She has never said this, remember silence is key here, but her eye rolls and disgusted sighs tip me off to her sweat displeasure. I, in return, leave as much of my sweat behind as possible.

Mama

Mama goes to the gym because she is trying to loose her “baby-weight”. Her youngest child was born 7 years ago. Mama also rocks a mean-camel toe…I’m talking her spandex is screaming for help because it’s at the point of no return. Mama of course drives a half SUV/half mini-van (with turbo) completed with the animated avatars of her family members on the back windshield.

Queefy

Queefy’s name might give away her claim to fame. Queefy always Queefs (vagina farts) in workout class. Usually it happens during our ab and core exercises. When it happens, she always giggles and tries to play it off, “My silly shoe keeps making that silly noise!

I like Queefy, but someone needs to tell her the truth. We know you just Queefed, Queefy and hey, its happens. but seriously, it’s awkward. I think you need to get some sort of plug…I’m sure a tampon would do the trick.

And finally, this brings us to the last gym lady-My enemy…

She might as well look like this

She might as well look like this

Competitive Connie

Competitive Connie is my enemy and I am hers…but we haven’t verbally established this, again silence is key here.

Competitive Connie is the one woman who needs to compete for everything and anything.

Have a great joke to tell? Competitive Connie has a better one. Just upped your weight in bench pressing? Competitive Connie’s been doing that for months.Met a celebrity and got something on sale? Competitive Connie met three and got it cheaper. YOUR story is NEVER as GREAT as Competitive Connie’s…

Hence, why no one likes Competitive Connie…

I don’t like her because she goes out of her way to make everyone look stupid.

The other ladies don’t like her because she hired a cleaning lady 4x a week (apparently, this is a no-no in the world of housewives).

Maid Gives Thumbs Up for Cleanliness

Long story short, one day, the ladies got so tired of it, that they nominated me to try and OUT-DO Competitive Connie.

For days during my drive to and from work I planned my strategy. Since I couldn’t defeat her physically, I would do it with a story she couldn’t outshine. A story so powerful, there was nothing she could say to Top-it.

When the day had arrived, I took a deep breath as I sat on to my mat and lifted my medicine ball, preparing for abs. I gave a nod to Plasty, Queefy and Mama letting them know it was time. They excitedly looked at one another; This was the day their nightly phone conversations had waited for, the day That Girl Ryan would defeat Competitive Connie and give hope to all the housewives of the world (Well, in a 15 mile radius at least).

I licked my lips and began my story….

ME: “So Connie, I was excited to tell you that I just found out I’m related to Miley Cyrus. She is a cousin of mine through a distant relative who just happened to also invent the vacuum, you know the vacuum that whirls in a circle and pivots behind couches? I believe you told us you have one of those no? Anyway, when I found this out, I decided to vacuum my living room. When I emptied the vacuum bag, I discovered $50! That same day after the dishes, laundry and lunches were completed, I went to DSW and bought these $50 heels that were marked down from $150”.

By the time I finished my verbal strike, I was out of breath. There was no way she was going to out-shine THAT story. Competitive Connie stopped her exercise and turned directly in my direction; she understood that I had just declared war.

The ladies and I waited in silence holding our breath, Queefy holding hers a little more, I’m sure, because we were doing crunches.

Would Competitive Connie collapse from defeat? Or would she take the bait?

That fucker took the bait.

Well, that was quite a day for you, That Girl Ryan and such an interesting story! (SMILE) It actually reminds me of the time I went to my uncle’s house, who is also Babe Ruth’s son. He invented the broom! The broom came BEFORE the vacuum, if I have my facts in order. Speaking of the vacuum you referenced, I just threw it out..pity. It actually is a crappy, horrible vacuum and i wouldn’t recommend it to MY WORST enemy. (SMILE). You should probably focus a little more on completing your abs, your only at 55 and I am already on 75 and almost done.

As she trailed off on her bullshit, I sat in total disbelief that I had lost to a housewife. I crafted that story over a 3 day period just to make sure I could out-do her and she thought of that shit in 30 seconds.

This is accurate

This is accurate

Not only that, but I had let my gym ladies down. Now their day would continue to be boring, surely they were looking forward to their phone-gossip schedules that would have lasted well into the evening before their husbands returned home from work.

The next few days, Competitive Connie really ramped up her plan for total destruction. When I would lift a weight, she would get a bigger weight and lift it longer. When I would jog instead of walk to my next circuit station, she would sprint. I even ran into her at the grocery store a few nights ago. She smiled (obviously fake) and I smiled back (even more fake). We chatted about the weather and wished each other a nice evening but in my mind, I knew there was a different meaning…

The weather seems quite odd latelyTranslation: You are really going to try and out-do me?

This sunshine won’t last long, its about time the temperature starts to lowerTranslation: You may be the under-dog that Queefy, Mama and Plasty are rooting for, but you will never defeat me.

Have a good night, I will see you bright and early!Translation: Bring your game, bitch.

I have never had an invisible housewife conflict so I am a bit lost when it comes to these things. But sooner or later, I’m going to set the gym ladies FREE, away from the reign of Competitive Connie.

But until that time, the drama continues….

housework

Advertisements

Blogger Idol 2013-I need your help!

19 Sep

To my loyal That Girl Ryan readers,

If you have never read one of my blog posts… then this is still probably not the one to read.

BUT if you love my blog, I need your help!

I am campaigning to be a contestant on Blogger Idol 2013.

What is Blogger Idol?

Blogger Idol is the premier blogging contest for bloggers. Based on the popular singing reality show, American Idol, the contestants audition and are then narrowed down to a Top 12. At that point, they compete weekly, using writing prompts created by a panel of judges. Each week, someone else is eliminated. The final contestant is crowned the ‘Blogger Idol’, and wins the Grand Prize.

Now that I have tried out, I need you all to tell the judges that YOU, THE PEOPLE, want to see That Girl Ryan on Blogger Idol this year.

Here is How:

1. Post this on to your Facebook Status:

I want to see That Girl Ryan on #BloggerIdol #WritersArethenewrockstars

AND

Go directly to the facebook page and say I Want That Girl Ryan to be on Blogger Idol!

http://www.facebook.com/bloggeridol

It’s time we tell the world, what we really think!

Help me do it!!!!!!

Stay Classy Friends, I look forward to representing you all on Blogger Idol 2013!

Toddlers Are Evil

13 Sep

I have been neglecting my blog…I sincerely apologize to those of you who have sent emails asking where I have been. But this little person in my life has been keeping me quite busy lately.

Bingo!! It’s my daughter, who has recently been taking full advantage of being a terrible toddler.

Listen, I have never been a fan of kids, I think they are a lot of work. Don’t get me wrong, I love my own kid and don’t mind the work because shes like a mini version of me, but kids in general…eh.

As my daughter gets older, she teaches me a lot about little people (little people like children, not midgets-but if anyone knows more about midgets, please, educate me.)

Like the fact that infants are boring, babies are adorable and toddlers are evil. No, I’m not kidding, toddlers are fucking evil. Gosh darn they are so cute and seem innocent, but if you live with them, you know what I’m talking about.

Of course some people would disagree, but only because they probably don’t have little ones.

You see, there are two kinds of people in this world; those who have kids and those who don’t. There is a clear distinction. Like the fact that people with children have to have a great sense of humor.

Why? you ask.

Well because chances are they have been peeded on, vomited on and definitely shit on. Would you continue to work a job if someone shit on you? Probably not, yet parents continue.

Take my advice, once someone poops on you and you still love them anyway, you see everything in a different light.

So when my daughter was finally potty trained, I thought we had gotten thru hard times, but like most of my time as a parent, I was proven wrong.

We have entered into the gates of 3-year-old Hell. My bundle of joy is starting to become a hand bag of demons. I know that sounds harsh, but just the other night I had a very interesting conversation with my toddler:

Her: ” I want to tell you something”

Me: “Ok…what?”

Her: “I want to eat your brains”

At first I giggled it off, assuming she said something else that I misinterpreted, but then she came into my bedroom one night, leaned over my bed and said, “Mom, I want to eat your brains“.

What innocent human being says I want to eat your brains? What the hell is that about? All I know if this Zombie thing DOES happen, we know whose side she is going to be on and now I’m considering buying a helmet to wear to bed.

Brains...I mean beans anyone?

Brains…I mean beans anyone?

Found this protective-brain helmet on sale for $9.99!

Found this protective-brain helmet on sale for $9.99!

Speaking of brains, toddler’s think in a very different type of way, borderline OCD. Like when it comes time for hygiene, something my child doesn’t believe in, there is a ritual that must be completed or the whole thing goes to shit.

It took me over 3 months to figure out, but I believe I have it down now:

Step 1: the word “Bath” or “Shower” MUST NOT be mentioned before 7pm; or else she still has energy to fight it.

Step 2: each bath toy, which include: A Ken barbie with chewed feet (kudos to our dog, Levi), two mermaids that are topless (again kudos to Levi) and a rubber duck, must be shown, introduced and placed on the side of the bathtub.

Step 3: DO NOT EVEN ask her to remove clothing by herself. She tries once and screams bloody murder that she can’t get it off and she can’t breathe because its on her body. Even though its been on her body all day-now its extremely constricting. I must remove clothing myself.

Step 4: enter her into the bath slowly, one toe at a time. It doesn’t matter that this procedure takes 5-10 minutes, it must be completed this way.

Step 5: YOU MUST immediately scrub underneath her armpits to make her laugh

Step 6: The drain switch has to be turned on and off by her only-or you will be paying for it all night.

Step 7: Towel must cover all body parts and she must be carried to her room like a “baby” (which means like a small infant).

If you follow these steps, you will have a successful bath.

So when people question why I only wash my kid like 2-3x a week; I tell them to shove it.

And You Thought Rain Man Was Annoying...

And You Thought Rain Man Was Annoying…

I wish that was the worst of it, but we are just getting started. My toddler has made ME and my husband very bad people. Bad because we have had no choice but to become pathological liars. I think I tell at least 10 lies between the time when I arrive home from work and the time I leave for work in the morning.

Explaining simple reason to a 3 or 4 year old is impossible, they don’t accept anything you say as truth because… well… you saw the bath ritual right? Enough said.

So I have to lie about certain things, like when my kid asks me why she can’t sleep in my bed, I tried to explain that it’s not healthy to sleep in bed with your parents. Plus mom and dad like to cuddle, talk about their day and do…other things. Clearly, this answer was not good enough, so i had no choice but to tell her that I have a monster under my bed who might eat her if she sleeps with us. I have yet to be asked that question again.

Here some other bullshit that has worked…

Toddler Question: Why do I have to take a shower?

Parent Answer: Because your hair will get so dirty it will fall out.

Toddler Question: Why do I have to sit in my seat at the restaurant until you and dad are done eating dinner?

Parent Answer: Because the manager will come over and make you wash dishes for the rest of your life.

Toddler Question: Why do I have to stop asking you the question why?

Parent Answer: Because if you don’t I might throw you out the window.

The bottom line is…this shit works. Don’t Judge.

Ain't Nothing Wrong With a Monster under the Bed.

Ain’t Nothing Wrong With a Monster under the Bed.

Ok, Ok, so clearly I am not striving to be the PERFECT parent…but I always hoped to be a decent one that my kid would appreciate. Yet, as she gets older, I can’t help but notice she makes me look like an asshole to complete strangers.

I was always under the impression that it was a parent’s job to embarrass their kids, something I am completely looking forward to, but again, I stand corrected.

I have a toddler that can’t keep secrets and hasn’t learned the rules of “What is said at home, stays at home.”

Before moving to preschool this year, my daughter’s last babysitter was of Asian decent. She has an accent, is about 4’9, around 50 years old and is the cutest woman EVER. My husband and I have a special imitation of her because she is a notable character. Obviously, our impression included an Asian accent. My toddler never took any interest in the impression and never acknowledged that it even existed. So we would do it, frequently at home, for a good laugh.

I think you know where I am going with this, so let me re-inact this classic event…

Scene: Babysitter’s house

When: After work

Who: My Toddler, Me and The Babysitter

Toddler: “Hey Miss babysitter, your Chinese… did you know that?”

Babysitter: “Why yes, I am Chinese how did you know that?”

At this point in the conversation, I immediately recognized that it was too late to stop the train wreck about to happen. For a brief moment, I considering running out the door, never to return.

Toddler: “Because my mom and dad said you walk and talk like this…hong kong chong ching fhong…”

The feeling of embarrassment from that moment surpassed anything I had ever felt in my entire lifetime.

That crazy kid said what?!

That crazy kid said what?!

So what have we learned so far, My kid is 3 and she’s devious. Sure, I think that’s a fair assessment, but what’s worse is that she is smart, WAY too smart for her own good.

I love shopping and treat myself every now and again to expensive purchases…like shoes. From previous experiences, I have learned not to bring my kid with me to the mall when I can help it. But this one particular time, i needed some new shoes and brought her along.
All went well until she announced that she had to throw up…like throw up right NOW.

Now, there is an innate parental reaction when your child says these words. You grab the first bag you can find or scurry over to the nearest trashcan. Not wanting another bad parenting scandal, I raced her out of the store to avoid vomit chunks landing on any articles of clothing and leaned her over the nearest mall trashcan. Not only did I look trashy as hell, but I was screaming at her to throw up IN the trashcan. I then realized that chances were, my kid’s vomiting aim was no where near the skill of a post-college adult and would need a second vomit barrier than just the trashcan. So in my moment of panic, I threw my $190 pair of heels on to the mall hallway floor so I could use the bag as a catcher.

As I lifted her up to throw up in the bag over the trashcan, I noticed a variety of silent bystanders watched in total disbelief; disbelief over the fact that an expensive pair of shoes were lying in the middle of the mall floor or that I was holding my 3 year old over a public trashcan. As I braced myself for the upheaval of a chicken finger lunch, my daughter started laughing hysterically and said, “Got you mom. I don’t have to throw up!”

I went home that night and Googled; Is Parent-Abuse a real thing?

Guess what, It is.

Puke Happens.

Puke Happens.

So the point of this is to show you the kinds of shit I do in my free time- hold my kid over public trashcans and worry about her eating my brain. But also, that the real life lessons you learn are from Toddlers. So pay attention America, I think we all could take a little direction from these tiny demons.

Now all of you need to go and thank your mothers for putting up with all your shit.

There She Is...and SASS is her middle name.

There She Is…and SASS is her middle name.

Insidethelifeofmoi

An eccentric blogger with a pen and a thousand ideas

Comics Grinder

comics, pop culture and related topics

Barb Taub

Writing & Coffee. Especially coffee.

thebackyardbeauty

quirky.unconventional.beauty

The Nomidian Texts

Everything that Is, Was, and Will be Again.

jesus was a primate

a small insight into my life: wife-mom-football-fitness-politics-religion~upcycle

Bucket List Publications

Indulge- Travel, Adventure, & New Experiences

20somethings Blog

Stories of men and women in their twenties

don of all trades

Master of none...

A Goode One

Sometimes life defies description. But I'll try anyway.

Ben's Bitter Blog

"We make bitter better."

Sick and Sick of It

But Still Living The Life

Playing Your Hand Right

Showing America how to Live

King of States!

I'm Michelle. This is my blog. I write about women and fatness, expound upon semi-coherent thoughts I have in the middle of the night, and offer tough love to those in whom I am disappointed; they are legion.

The Goldwoman

Buffet-eater, bodysuit-enthusiast, bad-bitch.

A Buick in the Land of Lexus

fresh hell trumps stale heaven

The Bromance Diaries

The riveting inner-workings of two souls riddled with bromance.

Hacker.Ninja.Hooker.Spy.

Some mistakes are too good not to share

The Nicki Daniels Interview

mostly awesome, most of the time

Flashes of Clarity

Living and Running