Filed under: Exercise, Misc. Humor | Tags: clothing, Exercise, fashion, humor, pilates
I am a person who is weird about being on time. I get stressed out when I’m not, and other “Laties” stress me out too. So when I was late to my Pilates class, it did not go well.
A few weeks ago, I knew I was going to be cutting it close to get to the studio on time. I would need to bring regular leggings, a sports bra and a tank top to class, and change when I got there.
I remembered it all, but instead of regular leggings I grabbed my biker short-length leggings, which are pretty much just Spanx without any of the benefits. I bought them because I was anticipating the studio being too hot in July. I also mistakenly packed a tight, black tank top, not my usual flowy top that hides….a lot.
So there I was, skidding into the gym like I was ten on my dirt bike after landing a perfect jump. I changed my clothes in the mirrorless bathroom and joined the class. However, when I got to my station and looked into the mirror…OH…MY…GOD.
Black is supposed to be slimming.
Staring back at me was a Teletubby in mourning.
The biker shorts squished all the doughy bits up to my waist and out the bottom to my knees. My body looked like someone had grabbed a tube of Jimmy Dean sausage, cut the ends off and squeezed from the middle.
So, I decided I would ignore it and that was fine, until about half-way through class when I saw it…the camel toe. Friends, there’s no discreet way to fix that in a room full of people and mirrors. I hopped into the bathroom again and tried to fix it, but I knew it was a lost cause. I have a long torso and the shorts were (apparently) not long enough. It re-appeared and stayed for the rest of class.
What’s the big deal, you ask? Isn’t it a class full of women? C’mon, people. You know we’re all super judgy, even though we say we aren’t. And if it’s just me that’s judgy like that, well, rest assured that Karma’s a real thing and she’s a bitch.
But it didn’t end there. Being thrifty, I tend to get my workout clothes at discount or “cost-efficient” stores. I think these shorts came from Old Navy. Anyway, as I was huffing and puffing during the workout, I started to smell something.
How was the scent of chicken nuggets wafting into the Pilates studio? There isn’t a Chick-Fil-A anywhere nearby.
No…it can’t be…
It was my f#$%ing biker shorts! How could they do that? I knew it wasn’t me because after class I ran back into the bathroom and did a smell check – it was definitely the shorts. And yes, I washed them before I put them on.
So to recap, because I was late, I looked like a sad, squished sausage and smelled like fast food.
Basically, I was a giant dog treat.
So that’s why I try to be on time.
Filed under: Middle Age, Parenting | Tags: adulthood, humor, marijuana, Middle-Age, parenting, pot, weed
Recently my state made it (sort of) legal to smoke weed. It’s not my drug of choice for a lot of reasons, but I have enjoyed watching Bougie, middle-aged people decide that it’s now ok to try it, or at least openly talk about trying it.
But I suspect that, like all things that have been cool, this too shall pass. We’ll ruin it for our kids like we do everything else: Face Book, Tik Tok, using the word “woke….”
Here’s how it will play out:
- We talk it to death amongst ourselves, like we’ve discovered some huge secret.
- We start trying to talk to our kids about it, who take pity on us, thinking we’re cute for trying to be hip, and let us know how much we don’t know. They give us lots of tips, glad they don’t have to hide what they’re doing anymore.
- We wait for hours in line outside strip mall weed stores to get the 4 free seeds they’re giving away as a promo, with visions in our heads of growing our own and becoming 21st century weed homesteaders.
- We grow it, dry it, roll it, bake it and whatever else you can possibly do with it. We post our epic fails, techniques and recipes on Tik Tok with the same enthusiasm as we post about Karens and dueting with other people much cooler than we are.
- Older Weedies marvel at the fact that middle-aged, middle class parents are now paying top dollar for the seeds they used to pick out of the crappy weed they could afford back in the day.
- Older Weedies have mixed feelings about the new weed on the market. They are wary of the new, more powerful and branded weed, but happy it’s regulated so their grandkids don’t experience the same flashbacks from laced weed they “got that one time from Jimmy.”
- Boutique brands have their own lines of weed-related products – Lily Pulitzer wrappers and bags, Toberlone weed-infused dark chocolate, Trader Joe’s weed/pesto ravioli bites.
- Younger Weedies turn away from weed entirely, shitting all over it and the benefits they shouted at us until we made make it legal. Weed has now become uncool. They identify something about the new weed that is the equivalent of side parts and skinny jeans.
- The states once again make money based on the middle class’s desire to be young and cool.
So enjoy it while it lasts, my Bougie friends and Young Weedies. There aren’t many times when our worlds intersect before we part ways again over what is cool and what isn’t.
Filed under: Misc. Humor | Tags: comedy, Fauci, health, humor, journalism, news, pandemic
I don’t know about you, but lately I’ve been receiving personal voicemails from Dr. Fauci, or at least someone who does a damn good impression of him, offering helpful hints about how to handle the virus. My college-age child also received one of these calls, and frankly, they’re just too good not to share. Of course, the real Dr. Fauci doesn’t have time to make personal calls, but boy do I wish he could…so hit the play buttons and enjoy – you’re not going to hear these on CNN.
I was able to track down Dr. Fauci and arrange for a rare – ok, it’s never happened before – Subourbonmom interview. Ok, calm down. I know this blog is outrageously popular, but it’s not the real Dr. Fauci, and I am clearly no Dan Rather or Barbara Walters. However, I would LOVE to conduct an interview with him for real some day.
No matter how you feel about Dr. Fauci, respect those around you and wear a mask – you don’t know what issues they may be facing or what people they have in their lives that would suffer catastrophic results if they contracted the virus. We flattened the curve – now let’s keep it that way until we have a vaccine available for everyone.
Filed under: Exercise, Middle Age | Tags: aerobics, Exercise, humor, pandemic, pool, quarantine
Like a lot of people, I’ve gained some anxiety pounds during this pandemic, even though I have all the means I need to eat less/better and get more exercise. For the last week or so I’ve been staring at my flapping arm wings and the growing tire around my tummy while drinking wine and eating jalapeno poppers like it’s the end of the world (if you watch the news every night, that’s exactly what it feels like).
I knew I had to do something when my sports bras started making it hard to breathe, causing me to question if I have the “‘rona”, until I remember it’s just that extra layer of fat squeezing into the modern-day corset causing the issue. For more on sports bras, read “Sports Bra Removal – The Struggle is Real.”
Even my exercise shorts, designed to be stretchy and provide lots of leg room, were cutting into my stomach and making my muffin top flop over and nestle against my also-tighter workout shirt. I basically feel like a moon pie that’s being held too tightly.
One of my Quaran-Tuck It List items is to start doing an exercise regimen in my pool. I’m lucky enough to have one, so I should get my butt in there and use it, right? I downloaded a couple of YouTube pool exercise videos and started doing them yesterday.
That shit HURTED! (To quote Daughter #2)
I had forgotten how hard it is to run around a pool while swooshing your arms and pretending you’re doing certain dance moves under water. That night I was sore and tired, but that means it’s working, so I’m going to keep it up.
But here are a few tips for those of you who might want to try the same thing:
- Check your dignity at the door. You’re going to look ridiculous, even if it’s in your backyard. If you can, get a friend to do it with you – then you have blackmail on each other.
- Make sure your bathing suit fits snugly – that 3-year-old Target suit isn’t gonna cut it. I had on my old bikini bottoms, and they were so loose that they kept making a THWOCKA THWOCKA sound every time I jumped around as they scooped up water like a sail, smacking it against my back. It was so loud I couldn’t hear the instructions, and I had to keep stopping and pulling them up again.
- Make sure you’re standing in the right water depth – a couple of times I slipped on the ledge going to the deep end and went under. Again, check your dignity at the door.
- Don’t try to watch the videos on your cell phone at the edge of the pool. It’s really hard to flap your arms around effectively while squinting at the lady in the video, and also not get your phone wet. I suggest you watch the videos a couple of times and write down the exercises on a piece of paper that you can prop up somewhere – for those of you 40 or older, make it BIG.
- Wear water shoes if you have them – nobody wants those weird red sores from the bottom of the pool on your toes – people will think you have COVID-toes.
Even if you don’t have this on your Quaran-Tuck It List, go ahead and make one. It’ll help you focus…but be realistic. “Have sex with Brad Pitt” is not realistic; however, “Dream about having sex with Brad Pitt” is certainly an achievable goal.
What’s on your list?
Here are the videos I was using (thank God at least one of those women isn’t a 20-year-old in great shape!):
Filed under: Misc. Humor | Tags: beard, fashion, humor, makeup, men, relationships, shaving
(Before I go on, full disclosure: I don’t like beards. On anyone. If someone wants to kiss me and their face feels like a dog, I’d rather have the dog. They always smell like the last food that passed through them, even if the guy says he cleans it all the time. And I don’t care if you’re the hottest guy in town with a beard – all I see is a rat poking its head through a bush. I know lots of girls find them sexy – just not me.)
I don’t know about your town, but mine has a lot of bearded men walking around, and it’s not even No-Shave-November. I don’t mean men with the closely-trimmed beards that are meant to accentuate the jawline or the 5-day stubble that looks rugged, even on your office IT guy. I’m talking about those squirrelly, nasty Duck Dynasty beards.
First, why is it always the guys who can’t grow a decent beard that always want to try this particular fashion? Seriously, play to your strengths – you look like you walked through a dark spider web. Just shave it and try something else.
For those who actually can produce a full Moses, we know that it’s probably false advertising.
I wouldn’t care about beards if there wasn’t so much hypocrisy around them. Men often have criticized women for wearing makeup (“What do you really look like under all that?” or “Why are you spackling your face?”), but beards are the male equivalent of concealer. Excessive beards hide a lot of flaws like acne, a weak chin, or Nixon jowels. ZZ Top beards can even hide the shape of a man’s face. You might think you’re getting a Brad Pitt jawline, when in fact there’s an Adrian Brody lurking beneath.
Another misleading face bush is the long, Gandalf chin beard – you know, the one that points like an arrow to the guy’s crotch (or beer belly). That thing is no different than dramatic eyeliner and lipstick that says “Look over here, and not at the zits on my forehead.”
And guys, we know it’s not because “it’s cold.” Judging by your prison pallor and baby soft hands, it appears many of you Hagrid wanna-bees work in offices, which means in climate-controlled environments. Unless you are an avid hunter, you can’t claim to need it to keep your face warm. Even if you live in Minnesota, the sprint from the car to your office does not warrant growing an entire sheep on your face. If you do, chances are your just going to have snotsicles hanging from it anyway, and that’s just gross.
And finally, as one of my girlfriends pointed out to me recently, kissing somebody with an untrimmed beard is like kissing a Wookie. Girls (or guys) if you’re a Star Wars fan with a Wookie fetish, put on your Princess Leia headphones and go for it.
So, bottom line is, if you’re going to clothe your face, go all the way. Do some beardazzling and make it fun. Throw some glitter in it, or some of those fancy beads middle-aged women love to wear. Go Viking and braid it, and add some silver and gold for interest. 
Just don’t grow a herpe curtain and think we’re not on to you.
Subourbon Mom 