White Horses and Cruising

Remember being little and dreaming of your “one true love”?

I do.

I watched a lot of Disney movies as a kid. Sue me.

I spent a lot of days imagining what that would be like; finding my one true love. He would probably ride a noble white horse and carry a sword. He would be tall. He would wear boots. He would be strong. He would slay a dragon and come wake me with true love’s kiss to save me from eternal sleep. (okay, maybe I watched Sleeping Beauty a lot more than I thought)

I still watch Disney movies but at some point, I grew up. And while I still love Disney movies, my idea about what my love is has changed–especially since I discovered that riding a horse everywhere in a city is wildly unrealistic. Also carrying a sword in public is generally frowned upon. Additionally, where the hell are you gonna find a dragon to slay? And why would I be stuck in an eternal sleep?? I mean, I have a lot of questions.

Either way, I hoped that he’d be funny–like laugh out loud, give me headaches funny. And smart. I hoped he’d be a nerd like me and know how to cook the things I don’t know how to. I hoped he’d be strong and handsome. I hoped he’d listen to country and rap. And metal. And 90’s pop radio. More than anything, I just hoped he’d be my best friend. I hoped that beyond being my “one true love”, we’d be friends. The kind of friends that take care of each other. That will hold my hair back if I’m sick and that would still kiss each other with morning breath.
Ultimately, I hoped he existed.

Somewhere along the way, I gave up looking. It was futile. And stupid. Prince Charming isn’t real. There are no white knights or dragons. I’m not a princess waiting to be saved.

But then, he was there. Not Prince Charming. My best friend. And he was always there.

Since we were 14, he’s been one that makes me laugh until I cry and will debate me on things that no one else will. Who knows how to make caldo de res and who nerds out to Star Wars. Who sings along to Breaking Benjamin and then to Intocable and then to Blake Shelton (don’t tell him I told you). He’s handsome and strong. He’s tall and wears boots. He isn’t so great with his words all the time and he isn’t perfect, but neither am I. He doesn’t slay dragons but he’s saved me from splinters in my feet, from having to get my hair wet in the rain, and from the most awkward, hurtful situations.

And while he isn’t a prince, and I’m not a princess, we are best friends.

Disney got it wrong, the whole Prince Charming thing (BECAUSE YOU CAN’T MARRY A GUY YOU JUST MET, ANNA). Because you don’t live happily ever after with some douche on a horse with a sword, dancing a waltz in a ballroom.

But if you’re lucky, you get a pretty legit life, rapping Dr. Dre and singing Evanescence, cruising around in a truck, holding hands with your best friend.

And that makes for a way better story.



Left: 2004, Right: 2018

Monday Morning Gossip

Y’all already know that my weekends are completely ridiculous. I don’t have too much time to play with my friends because I’m always so busy…but when I have time to play and can schedule it, I play HARD.

So two months ago, my friend J tells us that she’s gonna be in New Orleans for the weekend of July 20th, we are thrilled. Beyond thrilled. I can’t think of a better reason to get drunk than because J is in town. AND THEN Hope tells us she’s coming to town, ON THE SAME WEEKEND.

Welp, that just means get out of body drunk. That’s normal, right?

Highlights of last weekend (only because I’m having trouble remembering all of last weekend)
-Eating dinner at Evangeline on Decatur. Steak was great.
-I had two fantastic beers, but I can’t remember what the hell kind of beer they were.
-J approved of my teaching style. Kids need a little more real.
-Kelly decided I could not teach her future kids. Too bad I’m still their aunt, though.
-Kristen and Carnell showed up to dinner an hour late. This is nothing new.
-We were the loudest ones in the entire restaurant. Also nothing new.
-J has good taste in friends.
-The walk to Bourbon street is far longer and more crowded than I remember.
-I still believe that the Horny Gator from Tropical Isle tastes better than the Hand Grenade.
-We walked. A lot.
-I rejoined the active Twitter world just to be rude and realized I should come back (@_eatpraywod or @petitzydeco2)
-The Trayvon Martin Rally for justice passed through. I appreciated the effort. I think it would have been more well served if half the people marching weren’t drinking/visibly drunk.
-We walked. More.
-I wondered what thought process encourages women to walk around with only fishnet tights on.
-I admired J and both of her friends for walking in heels all night. Wondered when I became so lazy.
-Saw Chanae’ and my old roommate Chincie. I missed them too much. TOO MUCH.
-Went to the east.
-Stayed up all night and helped my friends break in their new hookah.
-Drove back to Baton Rouge at 9 am
-Went to work, then passed out at 2:30 pm and slept until literally 7 this morning.

I would have more photos, but I’m completely sure that I had trouble using my phone after the first Horny Gator I had.

And I clearly haven’t lost my love for GIFs.
How was y’all’s weekend?
Sami's Shenanigans

Flirting with Disaster: Adventures in Dating

I have not always had the best luck with dating. Actually, I’ve never had good luck with dating. I pretty much just suck at it.

I’ve been on lots of dates.

There was the guy that I met through online dating that turned out to be a completely needy and sensitive douche with a little man complex.
There was the guy who wanted his to be barefoot and pregnant because that was a woman’s “job”.
There was the guy who didn’t know the difference between to, two, and too, so I had to let him go.
There was the guy who totally confessed his love for me and then told me the next day that we weren’t gonna work out.
There was the guy that broke up with me in front of a football field.
There was the guy that cheated on me…with two of my cousins…and everyone knew about it.
There was the guy that cried a lot.
There was the guy who got jealous of crossfit.
There was the guy to dumped me to date another girl…who was a junior in high school.
There was the guy who never, ever, ever listened to me.
There was the guy who was my boyfriend…and then I found out he was engaged.

The list goes on and on. For someone who has outrageously good judgement in friends, it appears that I’m a little lacking in judgement of men category. Even worse: I used to be one of those helper people. Give me a guy who’s damaged in one way or another and I want to help fix him. Ugh. One of those girls.

I was all like, “oh, you’re a commitment phobe with no goals for the future, like to make your girlfriend feel like crap, and need your space to find yourself while you’re also finding your way around other girls’ bedrooms? I can totally help you redirect your life.”

Ain’t nobody got time fo’ that, Demi! Shit!

A sentiment which usually resulted in me being like this:

So, so wrong.
So I left dating alone and dated myself, instead. And that was great news! I spent all kinds of time with myself, spent lavish amounts of money ($50+) on shopping trips, pampered myself with trips to the nail and hair salon and told myself everyday how beautiful I am (kidding. kind of.

A TON of people have tried to help me out with my “dating issue” by setting me up and the first question they always ask is: “so, what do you look for in a guy?”

Shit, I don’t know. If I knew that, I wouldn’t have dated all those losers up there (and other ones that I forgot about/decided not to include).

What I DO know is what I DON’T want in a guy. Most qualities which can be found below:

1. Wearing Jesus sandals or Foot shoes…ALL THE TIME.

I guess these might be comfortable or whatever, but would it kill you to wear some nice shoes to go out occasionally? It is NOT attractive to see you show up to a fancy restaurant in these. Stop it.

2. You don’t understand personal space. 
I get that people like to be close and all, but you have to be close with PERMISSION. Just try to get all close to me when I haven’t permitted it. I’m all

back the eff up, yo!

3. You’re shorter than me. 
I can’t do it. I’m barely 5′ tall. Smurfs are taller than me. Setting me up with someone who is shorter than me usually results in 

4. You let me win all the time. 
I have a strong personality, but you can’t let me win all the time. Being a pushover will ruin your life, dude, especially with someone like me.

Don’t be this guy.

5. You don’t use correct grammar, punctuation, and spelling. 
There is nothing I hate worse than having to decipher whatever it is that you call language. Use vowels, for Christ’s sake. Commas are important! It’s okay if you’re unsure about when you should use a semicolon, I can teach you that. Bt if yhu tlk lk dhis? I can’t deal-it just really stresses me out. I can’t outtrain stupid…mainly because trying will drive me to drink. 

This list, while not comprehensive, pretty much sums up complete deal breakers for me. So uh, maybe one day I’ll meet some tall, handsome, non-Jesus sandal wearing, punctuation loving, guy who’s all secure in his convictions. 

Until then, I’ll be spending time writin’ my blog, liftin’ some weight, and giggling to myself about Jenna Marbles GIFs. Hilar.

Linking up with:

One To Nothin

Sometimes I’m so sarcastic, people actually think I’m dumb

Because I’m in San Antonio for South Central Regionals, it’s been a little difficult to get my posts out like clockwork. So I’ll actually give you two #blogeverydayinMay posts at once!

Day 24: list your 3 worst traits.

1. I am stubborn.
On a good day, I can be mildly infuriating. On a terrible day, I’m wildly infuriating. When I get an idea in my head, that’s what I’m gonna do. Other people and common sense be damned. Most would argue that sometimes, I don’t have the brightest ideas, but I like to think of things as an adventure. Unless you don’t agree with my adventure. In that case, eff you and I’m going to do it anyway. Because you telling me I can’t/shouldn’t do it only makes me want to do it more. Naturally. My kindergarten teacher said I was bossy. I like to think of it as, “I’m good at issuing directives.” to-may-to, tom-ah-to.

2. I discipline other people’s children.
I don’t know if this is the teacher in my or just how I am, but I cannot stand to see a child misbehave. It drives me crazy. Contrary to popular belief, I was a very well behaved child because if I wasn’t, I was going to become real friendly with the other side of an ass-whoopin’. Nothing grinds my gears more than seeing a child be disrespectful, touch things they aren’t supposed to, or throw a tantrum. And I will take it upon myself to make them stop. Which is not good. People don’t like it when you chastise their children in wal-mart, I’ve come to learn. I’m also learning this very important lesson: if people want to turn their children into monsters, let them.

3. I can be so good at being sarcastic that people actually think I’m dumb.
I’ve always had a smart mouth. It’s just one of those habits my parents couldn’t break. I’ve always got something smart to say, whether I actually voice it or not. As I’ve gotten older, my sarcasm’s gotten better. Except it seems that the people around me have become less receptive. Sometimes, I’m so good at being sarcastic that people actually think I’m dumb. Which is awkward for everyone, generally speaking.

Day 25: Something someone told you about yourself that you’ll never forget.

Y’all, my voice changes. A lot. My accent will change depending on who I’m around. Mainly, I will adapt to accommodate them. 

Sometimes I’m real country
Sometimes I’m a little cajun
Sometimes I’m a little yatty
Sometimes it’s kinda ghetto

I adapt to my environment. And it’s never intentional, it just happens.

But I distinctly remember coming to my dad at 14 and being very upset about it. And I’ll never forget my dad’s reply:
“you change your voice because you are intelligent. You don’t want to be identified as the outsider. And that’s smart. It’s a survival tactic. You want people to feel comfortable around you and not feel like you are different from them. When in Rome, you do as Romans do. People who adapt to their environment survive.”

I’m a survivor, y’all.

{what are your worst traits?}

A Jock and A Beauty and their lives changed forever

Excuse the Breakfast Club reference in the title, I’m in a John Hughes kind of mood. Today I have a very special post. I mentioned last week that my very good friend Kristie was coming to visit me. She did and we had an amazing time catching up. She has been a really great friend to me for a really long time. (PS: I’m the jock, she’s the beauty)

The very first time I ever met Kristie

Football Season 2008

Football season 2008.

Granada, Spain, 2009

Because Kristie is an awesome friend, she wrote a guest blog for Eat.Pray.WOD.
Without further ado…

As I rode around with Aislinn in her car the other day, I suddenly blurted out, “I want to write a guest blog post!” 
She told me to figure out what I wanted to write about. 
Ugh, I have to have a topic? Can’t I just ramble? 
But I guess if I wanted to do that, I could start a blog called Kristie Talks About Crap That Is Occasionally Relevant. 
And that name is just too long.

But today, after attending a graduation ceremony with damn good commencement addresses (School of the Arts people are pretty creative, it turns out), I realized I did, in fact, have something specific to say. So here goes…
Aislinn is one of my best friends. This has been the case for a few years now. And one of the things that makes our friendship is so strong is that we support each other’s healthy decisions and voice honest concerns about the unhealthy ones. 
No judgment. 
But not all of the friendships we’ve had have been so supportive. 
Jealousy is real, and it is ugly. 
Some people just aren’t good at being supportive of others’ success. But here’s the thing…
Someone else’s success is not your failure.
Aislinn and I were discussing the ways in which CrossFit has changed her social life. Chances are, she’s not going to go out drinking late on a Friday night anymore. The reasons for this are twofold: one, she’s a grown ass woman. Two, she’s trying to make sure she’ll be able to give her all in the box the next day. 
Who the hell wants to show up to a workout hungover? 
No one. 

Well, some people, but not us. A

And who would rather be hungover than get up and get high on exercise endorphins? 

Well, some people, but not us. 

And a lot of other people can’t, or won’t, understand this change in priorities. 
It’s tough to watch a friend revamp their lifestyle. For many of us, it makes us call our own choices into question. Am I lazy because I don’t wake up early and work out? Am I being judged for eating this pizza? What the hell is cleaning if not something one does with a duster and vacuum? If we are that person, we have 3 options. 
The first: we can try to bring our friend back into their former lifestyle that fits more comfortably with ours. 
The second: we can support our friend’s change in priorities and find new ways to spend time together. 
The third: we can be supportive AND use their dedication as motivation to start pursuing our own long-neglected goals.

I’ve chosen the third option. I was dubious when Aislinn began CrossFit. She got so involved so quickly that I was pretty certain it was an exercise cult that would slowly suck out her brain and mix it into her protein shakes. 
For real. 
But then I saw the changes in her. She was so passionate about CrossFit that it affected all aspects of her life. She changed her diet, she changed her sleep habits, she started a kick-ass blog that should have paid sponsors, like, yesterday. And, seeing how Aislinn has started moving full-throttle towards becoming her best self, I’ve been motivated to get my own ass in gear. I did a CrossFit intro WOD, and it reminded me how competitive I am. And it made me start doing my LEAST FAVORITE exercise: running. Running is an asshole, and I hate it. Except now, I crave it. I compete with myself daily. I started off running one mile. I’m up to three. In under 30 minutes. For me, that’s BEASTING. I feel incredible inside and out. I want to run further, faster. I want to strength train to add muscle to my new, sleeker frame. I want to do yoga to increase my flexibility and keep variety in my workouts. I want to be my healthiest self. Aislinn’s success is turning into my success, too. 
I hope y’all find it’s doing the same for you.
Holy crap. I can’t even believe that anyone would write such sweet things about me, but I am so thankful to have this girl in my life! 

You+Me=US and other things I didn’t learn in school

Day 23 of #blogeverydayinMay challenge. Thanks to Jenni, I might not have anything left to write after May!

“Things you’ve learned that school won’t teach you.”

How to deal with heartbreak.
Maybe some of you learned this while you were actually in school, but I can say with a rather large amount of confidence that I didn’t learn this in Calculus. (even though you+me does, in fact, equal us)
I remember my first real breakup really well. And I was devastated. An unnatural level of devastated. 17 year old Ace was all like, “WHAT AM I GOING TO DO NOW? I LOVED HIM! I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT HIM!” Well, look at you now, 25 year old Ace. Breathin’ ‘n’ shit.

Me and my very first, real life, boyfriend. Don’t judge my outfit. I was on the damn dance team. Also, those are homecoming mums in the right picture. What? Your school didn’t walk around on homecoming day with flowers attached to 5 foot long ribbons on them? What kind of weirdo school did you go to?

You gotta be smarter than the shit you’re f*ckin’ with.
This one I learned directly from my friends. Whenever you’re dealing with a problem, you have to be smarter than the problem. You have to look at the entire thing, from all sides. You have to look at the short run and the long run and then determine your next move. You can’t live totally in the right now but you can’t live totally in the future. So you have you outsmart the problem always. And people who can outsmart the trouble usually find that trouble doesn’t find them often.

Stupid is as stupid does.
Big shoutout to Forrest Gump for the eloquent way to sum this one up. Basically, if you do stupid things, you are stupid. Point, blank, period. There’s no way to get around that one, chief. Yes, we all fudge up and do dumb things once in awhile and of course, you can redeem yourself. But if you do them, even for that moment, you are stupid. So quit that shit. Also, you cannot ever convince a stupid person that he or she is not stupid. You just can’t. You can try, but it’ll only result in you being frustrated and overwhelmed. The best you can do is smile, say, “you know what? You’re right” and then leave it to them to figure out that they’re dumb.

Of all the things that don’t really matter, family does.
Family matters. And not like the TV show. Growing up (and living 10 hours away from home) has made me realize just how important family really is. There’s no one who will quite understand your brand of crazy but your family. Probably because they’re the same brand of crazy as you.

You should know that the picture at the left is barely even an eighth of my family. Notice my grandma is laughing. I loved the way her laugh sounded. 

Mama Nancy, Daddy Carlos and Me. A family of characters.

Always stay friends with the people that knew you when you were awkward and ugly. This is how you know these people are your real friends.
If you had friends during your awkward middle and high school years, keep them. You know they’re your friends because they accepted you even when you were at your ugliest. Plus, by now, they probably have way too much on you to ever get rid of them legally.

What’s that you say? Summer reading?

Sorry I’ve been hiding for the past few days! It’s a big day…the LAST DAY WITH STUDENTS! Which naturally means that it’s also: “throw every loving thing on top of teachers before they can escape to summer” day. Meh. Fine. I totally got this.

Me. Mostly overwhelmed. Also underpaid. 

But I wanted to make sure I kept up with Jenni’s #blogeverydayinMay challenge!

A list of your favorite posts from your archives.

I’ve only been running this thing for about 5 months. (uh, what? 5 months already? HOLY SHIZ.) so my list may not be that long. But it’ll probably be entertaining!

annnnnnnnd go!

This Wouldn’t Be The First Time…-My very first post. My very first progression picture. The very very beginning.

You don’t have to be great to start-Why you should start crossfit. Right. Now.

The thing about: being selfish-My “new year’s resolution” or whatever.

The thing about: cheating reps-Don’t be that guy/girl in the gym.

Why I hate the word “thick”– Because, seriously, I do.

Burpees, Snatches, and Boobs– I think the title says it all.

Don’t get too “muscly”– and other things to say to me that piss me off.

Religion: Crossfit

Alllllll of that should give you more than enough reading material for, um, ever. 

Happy Tuesday!