Lame-O Photos for Blog Posts Never Done

You know you're obsessed with blogs and blogging when...you take really random photos all the time thinking "I'm totally going to blog about that." Oh yeah, I have a shit-ton of just...weird photos that I really can't think of what I'd write about using them.

So let's do a story!! In the 15 minutes before I have to go to work! Awww yeah...creativity....the nerds of NaNoWriMo would be so proud...


There once was a hipster princess....

 Except she didn't call herself that...cause....like....um, no. "Princess" are you kidding me? (Except deep down inside she always wanted to be a princess, even though the feminist movement says no, and the Court of Hipsters Who are Cooler Than You and You Just Don't Get It...also don't approve of princesses...but you know who does....

 Super awesome, semi-hipster theatre friends (HI RAVEN!! Miss you!). Sometimes they're hipster together and sometimes they dress up to go to a Murder Mystery Party because they're theatre people and that's totally okay that it was about Who Dunit instead of getting trashed....at 28. What? (Big 'ol shout out to Laura, a non-theatre person I might add, who let theatre people into her party. WHAT was she thinking?!)

So this hipster princess liked to experiment with stuff that looks like crap, but you can actually eat it. One day she made spaghetti squash bolognese and she managed to get her parents, who she lived with now (and that's totally okay, do you know what our economy is like right now people? God....backOFF), to actually eat it and like it. There was much joy in the kingdom.

 Except that a few days later, hipster princess found out she can't have tomatoes on a low FODMAP diet. Fuck you FODMAP. You RUIN EVERYTHING....
....except for Murder Mystery parties...there's been no research that says one can't enjoy a cocktail and some costumes.

 Yes that is a lion on hipster princess's shirt. What? She's a lion tamer...CLEARLY. For love of all things cat-like. BackOFF.

Hipster princess moved away from DC and dearly missed all the wonderful, magical parking tickets she got (DC, you are welcome for that $2,000 in parking ticket funds she provided you with)...she missed them so much, she made sure to get one when visiting Salem, MA.

 <<INSERT PICTURE OF SALEM, MA PARKING TICKET>>

(Oh yes I did take a picture of my ticket. For blogging purposes. Don't judge me asshole.)

                         (Did I ever mention that I'm overly paranoid? I know you're out there stalkers and you're not going to get me by checking out the license plate number on my parking ticket here. But just, in your mind, imagine a lovely strip of paper with "you suck at parking" written in glitter. That's how they roll in Salem. Seriously. Can't show you the photo though. Just take my word for it...)

 Pppsssshhh, $25 ain't nothing. It's like a souvenir. Except if you don't pay, the witches and the pirates will come after you.

 Hipster princess is apparently fond of Asshole Brad. (Awww yeah Rocky Horror Picture Show with PROPS. You make my theatre heart happy.)

The hipster princess went to get sage advice from the Great CharlieDog.  But he was asleep, per usual.  Nobody naps like a CharlieDog can nap.

 And nobody can take drunk photos with a friend dressed like a bee and not remember why exactly or where exactly, like hipster princess can. Talent. You gotta have it.

 (He's a violent bee....a stinger bee perhaps?) (HI KYLE! You're pretty. Like a princess, but not quite hipster princess. Lucky you.)

Then the hipster princess woke up, sobered up, and went to get some non stomach irritants at the store, where they keep the food. Hello Wegmans. You're my favorite. Bet nobody can tell what kind of diet hipster princess is on. She's not entirely sure either. But Gelato = low FODMAP, pumpkin puree, butternut squash, leeks, shallots = low fiber/low residue but not low FODMAP (fuck you FODMAP), grass fed frolicky pork meat, environmentally friendly and hipster friendly tuna and salmon, lemon, coconut milk, almond milk, all = low FODMAP & low residue....but that mint chocolate coconut milk is just pure pleasure. Have you tried it?? Thank you So Delicious. It's the bestthingever!

Except...it's not the best thing ever. In the land of hipster princess, Ben's Cookies are TheBestThingEver. You should pay a few hundred for the plane ticket to London, JUST TO GET THESE COOKIES.

Well, for cookies and for cheesy photo opportunities like this.

(I hope you caught on that I'm hipster princess. If not...you're kind of an idiot. We can definitely be friends. I give hugs to everyone, regardless of smarts or attention span.)

Cheers,
Lindsay

Getting Into Excercise

You want to know how I got convinced that running might be something I'm in to??

There are races/runs where you can dress up! Yes. You heard me. I can wear a tutu and glitter for the Disney Princess Half Marathon in February which, hand to God, is the predominant reason that I signed up. Oh yes. Come on...you think a theatre nerd like me wouldn't be swayed by costume?

Oh and, like my friend CGriff, I believe if I can train my lumpy ass to manage a half-marathon without dying then I can be done with running. Like, check that bitch off my list, I came, I went, I may have vomited while covered in glitter (hell, I may actually vomit glitter, but a girl can only dream amiright?), but I did the half marathon and now I can be super-awesome-braggy-runner and talk about that time I did a half marathon. Then I'll go back to my yoga corner and get super flexible and strong and in my later years brag to all my runner friends about how I still have use of my knees. Win-win for ME!

Running ain't so bad....once you're done with your run. In my training I haven't quite experienced the runner high just yet. I just experience that "oh my God I may die while doing this" kind of feeling. But much like survivor euphoria (is that a thing? No idea..I'm just making shit up now..), I feel pretty freaking fantastic once  I've recovered and realize that, yes, I still have full use of my lungs and my legs and no vomiting actually occurred. (Hey, I have Crohn's, I think of the possibility of vomiting a lot)

You can tell the endorphin's are working when suddenly, sometime within the 15 minutes post-run, you start thinking..."you know, I could totally pick up kickboxing...and cycling, even though I think my butt would hate me and I hate the outfits...maybe I'll throw a little swimming in for the joints. I am going to be so freaking healthy. Are you scared couch potato? Huh? Are ya? (That's me talking to my inner couch potato. I taunt her a lot. Sometimes she taunts me. Love-hate.) Martial arts next year for sure. Three times a week, yoga three times, running daily with a rest day on Sunday's and then I'll throw some charity work in there. I can DO THIS. Taking on the world. One run at a time."

Oh yes. My endorphin-high version of me is fucking ambitious. And ludicrous  Totally not thinking about the fact that I can only really do yoga twice a week and swimming maybe once a week. For realz.

Also learned...I run faster, harder, longer when I'm listening to rap and imaging myself as the next awesome rapper to come out of lower-middle class suburbia. Hey...I wrote some pretty kick ass, angsty poetry when I was, like, 14. I was struggling through my goth/Buffy phase, so it's deep...real deep....like man-made pond deep. You don't even know. I struggled. My Mom refused to let me shop at Spencer Gifts or Hot Topic for my clothing and no black lipstick or dyed hair allowed. WTF? I could have ruled the goths...too bad I was rejected by them due to excessive perkiness. Why can't goths have a positive attitude?! I don't understand!!!

Rant done. Now go run, lumpy.
xxLindsay

Health and Fighting for My Right to Be Over Caffeinated

I may have had to leave my beloved theater behind in DC, but right now I'm feeling it was worth it.  Living at home with parents who are more concerned with my health than I've been means that I've gotten set up with a fantastic GI here in Rochester, despite my whining that I'd never find a good one in Western New York.

My GI doctor, so far, rocks. I saw a medical assistant, then my GI's nurse practitioner, before seeing him with his nurse practitioner. It was exciting times. I got so much attention. I wanted to give out free hugs and weep with joy...but I didn't...cause that'd be weird.

There were pictures drawn...and can I say?...all GI's are terrible at drawing, always rendering something that looks like the Nile river with a case of chicken pox. They should get a class in med school or something. Or be allowed to use pastels...cause those are SO MUCH FUN...all the color and you get to use your fingers...

No matter. The pictures and the listening to me ramble and then proceeding to explain loads and loads of stuff to me that all past GI's never cared to tell me about. He was fantastic. I may start a fan club soon.

As a result of my visit, I'm on an antibiotic to kill evil bacteria that's just partying in my intestines that refuses to vacate. No yogurt for me guys...must keep all bacteria away.

I'm scheduled to get blood work done every month...THANK YOU JESUS. I've wanted my GI's to do this ever since I was 14, but none saw it as necessary. I found out from this round of testing that I'm low on B12 so I get to get a once a month shot, hello super energy boost, and I'm also super anemic...so, just as I've always known, my body is that of an old person...I get to take Geritol. I have not heard the end of it from my parents about how they thought that was something that the elderly take, har har...we'll see who's laughing when I'm bouncing off the wall with all my freaking energy! I AM PUMPED. I may clean something I'm so happy. (Don't ask, I'm quirky that way.)

I've always been over caffeinated and just thought a lot of my tiredness comes from crashes...which it does...but the reason I love caffeine so much is probably because I've always been quite tired. Most people who are severely anemic don't even know it. One of my old housemates, Jess, who's a 10-mile-a-day kind of runner, thought she might be a little low only cause she'd get just a bit tired while doing her daily run. After she got tested, she was driving home when the doctor told her she had to turn around and go to the hospital. She was so low on red blood cells that she needed an infusion of blood and it could have been dangerous to her health walking around like that. I don't think I'm that bad, clearly, but I do get to take three iron pills a day AND the liquid multi vitamin with iron (Geritol).

Technically, I should probably decrease the amounts of caffeine I consume, since it can interfere with the absorption of iron...but that is just not something I think I can handle. I love my caffeine...I'd almost go as far as saying I'd give up booze in favor of being able to have my caffeine if forced to choose. (And who would make me choose??? SADISTS. That's just sick.) So my compromise right now is to switch up which days I have coffee and which days I have my PG Tips tea. Someday I might be able to decrease, but we're about to go into winter in Western New York. Guys...I don't know if you know what that's like...but winter's here tend to suck all the happiness from you. Over caffeination is just a way to keep yourself entertained.

We'll see how things go. Aren't you thrilled over this mildly snooze worthy post? Maybe I'll do a picture story next...

xxLindsay

Running For Lack of Anything Better To Do

I've gone and convinced myself that I can be a runner.

You may put me down for crazy. 

I have one month to "train" for a Jingle All the Way 8k run in DC. Currently I can run 1 mile...on a treadmill...

You're gonna be so proud of me. Today, I told my parents I was going to run a few miles into town to grab a prescription and then run home. I aim high folks...and this is after I haven't run in about...three months.

Whaaat, I've been busy. Remember, fire? Stress? Body eating itself?

My excuses are better than your excuses. Aren't you jealous?

So on my "fun run" today, my thought process went a little like this:

Okay, this isn't so bad. I am rocking this.

Super easy guys, this is why running rocks. So relaxing, my body digs this.

You know, it's a little chillly out...should have worn one of those lame awesome ear warmer headband thingies. I'd look super cute.

Wow, my chest kind of hurts....should it hurt? Ohmygod, am I having a heart attack? No, no, it's fine, just good old exercise. Maybe my body's going into shock...from this new experience it hasn't had in awhile. I may die. People die while running, I should just stick with yoga...if I ever got around to doing yoga...note to self: sign up for yoga this week.

Should I be spitting this much? That's really not attractive, but maybe it'll keep any murderers away...don't get any ideas murderers, I am a horrible target. I'll come at you spitting and maybe crying with snot running down my face...I'm practically already there. Don't mess with me, it'll just be embarrassing for both of us.  

Am I going to die? Is CSI going to be picking up on my DNA every where cause I spit my way down Main Street and that's how they find my dead body?

Do we even have a CSI? Nope, probably not.

Am I going to vomit like real athletes? Okay definitely not, definitely walking now. Still a champ, still moving, I can totally do this.

30 minutes later at the pharmacy, definitely called my Mom to come pick me up. Hey, my head was cold, okay?

February Disney Princess Half-Marathon HERE I COME (ohyesidid!). Awww yeah...just look for the girl on tv who is puking everywhere before she passes out from crying.

Totally got this.

xxLindsay

November = Awesomesauce SuperFun Adventuretime!

No seriously, I am so sure of it, it's ridiculous. I mean, how could November not be awesome? I've got goals and stuff. And my life already went all topsy-turvy in September, I was adjusting and gathering my equilibrium, and now here we are at November. The month of NaNoWriMo, the most Thankful month of the year (now, more so than ever, after Sandy...that bitch). I love Thanksgiving. Mainly because it's all about spending time with my siblings and parents. The time when we all get to catch up, try and top each other with incredibly lame jokes, and then pry into each others lives that we've missed out on and making sweeping judgments that are sure to cause laughter and resentment for years. No lie.

We usually spend 30-40 minutes post dinner arguing about what movie to see that day and then end up spending waaaaay too much money to go see some cheezy action adventure flick, that nobody really wanted to see but nobody wanted to let the other person win so we just settled on one nobody wanted, in 3D no less, cause it's go big or go home fools. Proof:

I've never looked sexier...don't know about you.

So outside of Thanksgiving to look forward to in all it's glory, I am pumped for NaNoWriMo. A month of me attempting to write 50,000 words for a novel I'm going to pretend I don't care much about but really do and then never actually make it past 2,000. But damnit, this year I'm going the long haul. It. Will. Be. Done. AND I'm gonna join the blogger bandwagon full of people saying they'll blog daily as part of NaNoWriMo. Yup...a-huh...yes-indeedy. You believe me don't you? Don't answer that...

I'm attempting to become a "runner". I have such lofty goals like attempting to log in 25 miles a week. Granted I can only physically run one mile at this time, but with a combination of running/walking those 25 miles, I'm sure to ace this goal. I want to run the 5 miles around my block (hey-oh, living in the country!) on Thanksgiving day and then maybe attempt an 8K run in December in DC.

Oh did I mention....? I don't live in DC anymore. Let me introduce you to my September:

Here's a picture of my DC house on September 4th...that top floor, with the two window-less windows...that's my room.

 Here's a view from the inside:

Burn, baby, burn. I can thank the roofers from next door for those pretty pictures. They were using blowtorches to repair their roof...without a license I might add...and caught my house on fire. Hurrah! Not hurrah...super sucky. I lived in a hotel for the rest of the month.

Luckily...or more coincidentally...not four days before this fire, I had been discussing with my parents about moving home. Me and DC haven't got on for awhile now and my Crohn's has been slowly getting worse. I was working for a company that I adore but never managed the job well enough so that I would have time to heal. I was working like a crazy person and then my GI dr wanted to talk to me about going on Remicade. For all you healthy people out there, Remicade is scary. On the plus side, I had been mentally preparing myself for this idea by reading awesomesauce Crohn's blogs by people who were on Remicade and live well. (Brief explanation: Intense drug that requires a 3-hour hospital visit once every two weeks..for me anyways cause my Crohn's is that bad...to get an IV injection of the drug. You get to be monitored by nurses and everything. Lost of potential side effects may be included... nausea, vomiting, passing out, full body rash....just all around complete sexiness that I am really excited about.) So why deal with that kind of stuff in a city where, even though I am surrounded by amazingly wonderful friends, I don't really have anybody that can take a day off from work to go with me to the hospital. Whereas here at home, my Mom and Dad are all ready to help out.

Also I came back for the dog.

My other dog, not pictured, Hannah, passed away in August. I miss her very much and just want to cuddle Charlie who doesn't quite understand where she's gone.

Okay...now I'm done being fairly depressing. Do you feel awesome about life? Cause I do. I am wearing a purple sweater, blue sweat pants and green St. Patrick's Day socks with nobody around to judge (cause my parents are quite used to my extreme comfort style), Dad's making dinner tonight and there is a steady supply of wine stocked in this house. Currently, this is just what I want. Embarrassing wardrobe and wine. Call me satisfied.

Gonna leave you with an image that always satisfies me...from my recent trip to London this year...my FAVORITE British fast food...Gregg's Pasty:

You can only tell it's steak by the color. Yes I want that in my belly nom nom nom nom...

xxLindsay