no subject

let's take a break from all the crap & poop & poop & crap stories for just a sec.

---

okay people, the break is over.

it was short-lived, i know.
but i'm hard pressed to find another topic of interest right this very minute.

remember those fantastic fitness classes i started?

well the good news is - i'm still doing them!

the poop news is - i farted my way through an entire 55-minute workout today.

and yesterday.

thank the lord baby jesus for the circulating fans & high intensity music or someone would have been onto me.

i can't help what this new high-protein diet is doing to my system.

#fartprobz
#sowhatimgross
#realtalk

crappy cruise

three years ago i went on a cruise with my boyfriend-at-the-time

and i crapped my pants on the first day.
in the security line.
and i'm not even kidding.

it went like this:

we were waiting in line.

i felt something creep its way out of my b-hole.
i panicked.

all of the bathrooms were on the other side of the security gate.

i whispered to Gman:
i seriously just pooped myself.

what? no you didn't

yes. yes i absolutely did.
i know what i felt.

no you didn't.

i bet you $10 you didn't.

well. you already know who won that bet.

but then he reminded me that you're not really the winner if you're the one who shit your pants.

solid advice

it is better to fart into a toilet

than crap into your pants

being someone who has crapped their pants more than once in the adult life, this advice truly hits home.

so thank you, Gman
for this kind reminder.

Happy Thursday everyone.

false alarm

i returned from a long voyage.
on my dresser there was a black cubed box.

Mr. REA sat quietly on the bed.

i walked into the bathroom.
i started sweating.
i convinced myself i was getting engaged.

because i swear to you,
i thought i was getting engaged.

i came out of the bathroom.
i grabbed the box.
i jumped up on the bed with Mr. REA.

oh look at that! how sweet, 
i wonder what's inside??

i opened the box.
and it was a watch.

but i do actually love watches.

a friday feel-good

happy friday ya'll.

not usually too sappy around here at Single in The City, but every once in a while i have a strong connection to something and then all i want to do it talk about it.

over & over & over.

and i have to tell ya, this little man has tugged on my heart strings & boy did he win me over.

big time.

if you're looking for a good cause to support, this is it my friends.

this is it.

so take a minute to check out his incredible story & 'Like' his Facebook page:

https://www.facebook.com/MilesCobbSellai

or skip the binge drinking this weekend & make a donation to support his on-going therapy:

http://www.gofundme.com/miles-to-go

or buy a t-shirt!
we could be twins!

http://www.bonfirefunds.com/smiles-for-miles


if that doesn't leave you feeling good this friday, well then i just don't know what will.

sending you big smiles from Miles & promising to get back to sharing my embarrassing lifestyle on Monday.

fitness group - round II

remember when Mr. REA bought me that month's worth of hot yoga?

well. that lasted exactly one month.

it turns out, i don't actually like to reach body temperatures of over 98 degrees.

or uncontrollably drip sweat from every pore in my body while standing perfectly still.

wasn't really my thing, if you know what i mean.

i've been in a bit of a fitness funk lately.
haven't felt like going to the gym.
haven't felt like going for walks.
haven't felt like in-home-yoga dvds
haven't felt like much at all really.

bummer.

but don't you worry, i snapped out of that grey cloud & i'm back in the game.

i found a sweet little secret pilates-weights-cardio studio a few blocks from my apartment

& man am i in love. 

...

but let's be real here.

the only reason i joined this new fancy expensive fitness group is so that when that juicy moment comes & Mr. REA finally proposes i will be in the best shape of my life.

i also plan on jumping up on him and kissing him all over his handsome face and i'd like to do so without shattering any of his vertebrae and/or accidentally killing him.

the instructors are amazing.
and beautiful.
and have perfect bodies.

the clients are basically lulu lemon models.
with perfect hair.

then there's me in my worn out old navy gear sweating my ass off to keep up.

and you gotta love the one pervert guy in the back who's really only there to flirt with the lulu lemons.

i don't have a good closing statement right now. too much protein powder today.

bye.

a short list & a shout out

it's like clockwork:

Mr. REA comes home
we eat dinner
Mr. REA says, i'm going to take a shower now
i start washing dishes
Mr. REA locks the door to the bathroom

and immediately i have to go #2.

bad.

and no, its not like, oh gee i think i might need to go to the bathroom...

its more like, dear god please hurry up in there i'm about to crap my pants and i'm not even kidding. 

my apartment has one bathroom.

and in case you're wondering - we are not at that point in our relationship yet where one of us can be in the shower and the other one can be taking a dump 12 inches away. i'd actually like for us to never reach that level.

ever ever ever.

i contemplate where else i could go #2.

the answer is no where else.

i stop washing dishes
i sit motionless for 25 minutes

he comes out.

then it's a quick peck on the cheek & i'm on my way to work.

and by work i mean business
and by business i mean poop.

obviously.

and you better believe this has had its influence my list of fears:

3. bear attack
2. shark attack
1. taking a crap outside to avoid shitting my pants



-- oh and shout out to my baby brother. if you see him around say happy birthday. he's tall & has sort-of-blondish sort-of-brownish hair but its real short. love you bro --

ze party pooper

i love a lot of things.

but at the very top of my list are:

1. german accents
2. poop talk

this fabulous video includes both.

i'm in #7thHeaven.

jennifer is a party pooper - video link


you're welcome.

yoga

i have some thoughts about yoga.

well specifically about yoga pants.

whichever pervert made the executive decision to allow women the freedom to now wear yoga pants freely in public, you have made my errand running more comfortable and getting dressed each morning much less stressful.

and for that, i thank you.

however, having said that, there should be guidelines as to what is appropriate yoga pant wearing and what is not appropriate yoga pant wearing:

my list is short.

no panty lines - ever ever ever ever. news flash! yoga pants do not require underwear.

no yoga pants in the work place - unless you are in fact a yogi, in a yoga studio.

no chronic camel toe - i do believe this one explains itself.

that is all.
Happy Monday.

smooth talker

ring ring ring

The Waxer: hello?

Me: hello, hi i'd like to set a waxing appointment.

The Waxer: okay what time you want?

Me: do you have any openings tomorrow, around 5?

The Waxer: okay good good. what area?

Me: underarms, full leg, full bikini please

The Waxer: okay good. is the hair long enough?

Me: ... excuse me?

The Waxer: your hair, is it long enough?

My Mind: what? long enough?
long enough?!

My Mouth: yes actually it might be too long. 
ever waxed a wildebeest?

The Waxer: okay yes good see you tomorrow.

click

keyword search

behind the scenes here at Single in The City By The Bay, i am able to see what search terms are used most often that result in a person stumbling across my online diary blog.

& the most used word in my keyword search is...

drumroll please...

...Cuddle Fish.

cuddle fish.
cuddle fish.

can you believe that?

cuddle fish.

the more i say it the weirder it gets.

cuddle fish.

that term yeilds higher page views than i would have imagined.

like, ever. 

so thank you, Mr. Cuddle Fish, for my internet popularity.

and to all those innocent internet bystanders researching obscure marine life, minding their own beeswax, who happen to stumble upon this mess that i call my life, 

sorry that i'm not sorry. 

overzealous

out of the blue, Mr. REA suggested we go for a walk in The Park.

note: Mr. REA never suggests walking in The Park.

so in true Crazy Girlfriend fashion, i convinced myself he would propose.

and if you yourself have ever been a Crazy Girlfriend, then you understand the logic here.

we left the apartment and strolled to the park.
then strolled on inside the park.
strolled all around the park.

we found a bench.
he suggested we sit down.
so we sat down.

and i waited.
and waited.
and waited.

no proposal.

just regular chit-chat about how perfect the weather was.

lame.

but when i got to thinking, i realized we were both wearing gym clothes.

his shorts didn't have pockets.
no room for a ring.
maybe they had a secret little pocket in the back.
they didn't.

we took a few minutes to enjoy the silence.
then he said my name.

yeeeees?

careful when you get up. there's dog crap over there.

that's the punchline to yet another anticlimactic story that did not end in my engagement announcement.

the end.

craigslist

thanks to the recent style-merger, i've spent an obsessive amount of time posting my things on the beloved Craigslist.

one item in particular was a large white dresser.

i bought it about a year ago, put it together myself. and nothing was wrong with it.

i may be a woman who has high anxiety mixed with OCD tendencies who can't control her alcohol intake, but i would never ever sell something broken to an online stranger who has my phone number and is about to meet me at my house.

no thank you.

but then this text conversation happened:

hi. just an FYI. the dresser was messed up n we threw it out today ): the drawers were all broken n wouldn't fit right. oh we'll. i guess crap happens. ur a good person n i like you but i did want to tell you it was broken and we didn't even get to use it. it's ok i'm not upset or anything just disapointed. i dont mean to bother you just wanted you to no. no hard feelings :)

i asked how exactly the drawers were messed up. ikea furniture can be a bit tricky.

they were getting all chipped when we were trying to put them into place. now they're garbage. its ok tho. don't worry about it. just wanted you to know.

okayyy

so this is the data i've gathered from that exchange:

- you purchased a dresser from me, that you then destroyed to the point of being non-functional.

- you like me, but you want me to know you broke my dresser.

- you're not mad at me, but you can't use something you bought from me.

- you think i'm a good person, but you can't figure out how to assemble a dresser.

am i missing something?
did you tell me this just to put some weight on my conscious? or what.

oh hi excuse me yes. hello corner liquor store. i purchased a few handles of bottom-shelf vodka from you earlier today. im not mad or anything but i drank one on the way home and the other three aren't useable anymore. idk what happened but they're broken on my driveway. they got dropped i guess. you were really nice but i just wanted you to know i cant drink any of them anymore. i'm not mad or anything, just disappointed. 

see mines a joke because bottom shelf vodka is plastic.

moral of this story: you bought it you broke it.

the merge

my style is very eclectic.
if eclectic is synonymous with hoarder.

Mr. REA is very modern & simple.

this has sparked what i define as a style-merging.

Mr. REA bribed me to get rid of all my crappy-ass college junk, by promising to purchase new things.

our things.
together.

well you better believe i fell for it.
big time.

we remodeled the entire apartment.
together.

the only thing missing is a ring.
or a baby.

at this point, i'd take either.

just kidding.
but no, really.

update

well folks.
life got a little insane in the membrane there for a while.

for reasons that were not made public, there actually was no Wedding #8.

so that's that.

but in an entirely selfish way, that actually helped me to reach the 10 goals previously outlined.

oh except i did eat at a buffet.
and i liked it.
i'm gross.