the sneeze

You know those days when you've finished that long shift at work and all you want to do is go home, have yourself a BBC marathon and veg on the couch while you happily munch on two entire bags of Cadburry eggs? Ya, me too. 

Reality:

Finish long Saturday shift at work.

Drive home. 

Waste time on Pinterest.

Eyelids start to feel like lead.

Realize the night is wasted.

Lay on the couch.

Fall asleep.

I distinctly remember drifting off into sleep. You know, those fine moments when you are keenly aware that you should get up, brush your teeth, wash your face, change out of the disgusting clothes you've been sweating in all day and get in your own bed but instead lay on the couch like a dead gorilla because you are just that dang comfortable? It was in these fine moments of darkness, dreams and silence that I heard, not even slightly joking you, what seemed to be a sneeze underneath my head:

*ACCHHOOO!!!*

My blood turned cold, my even breathing stopped completely. Although too terrified to blink my eyes I threw caution to the wind and loudly screamed, "holyflippinsmokesiamgoingtodieaslowandpainfuldeathwhatthecrapwasthat?!"

I swiped a blanket from the end of the couch, threw it over my entire body all ninja-like, shut my eyes so tight it hurt and say over and over again, "i'm too young to die, i'm too young too die!!" It is in the middle of of this repetitive chant that something heavy hits/grabs/punches? my ribcage. Four things flew threw my mind:

1. i was living my worst nightmare

2. i should've fallen asleep with a can of mace

3. i should've taken karate instead of zumba

4. why did i fall asleep on the couch my bed is 10 billion times more comfortable anyways

I ripped the blanket off, unfolded from the fetal position and found myself looking at this:

What's the difference between a cat and a killer? You tell me.

wanna hear something ridiculous?

I've been trying out this crazy new exercise revolution called Zumba. Let me give you a background story on why I am even posting a story on this said revolution. I don't exercise. Anything that involves the word "running" or the action thereof will result in me not having to do anything with that particular activity. However, I have found myself feeling as if I have ran the Boston Marathon and desperately try to fill my Titanic size lungs with oxygen when climbing stairs. In between blackouts at the top of any staircase I say to myself, "this is insanity, for good grief's sake, please, get some exercise."

All this nonsense leads to my real story of my Zumba experience last night. My Zumba buddy, Julia and myself have promised one another that by the end of our instruction we WILL be sexy. It's just that our hips, cleavage and non-existent rhythm do not seem to want to comply to said promise. By the end of the class last night I determined that I could take Zumba classes for the rest of my existence and never be sexy. Quite honestly if there is one thing I get from Zumba every night, it's a busted gut. 

I Zumba in the back where not even I can see myself. I thought that if I stand behind who I thought was the most reserved gal in the class I could look like a freak till my hearts content. I would like to assume that the little "reserved gal" had a frustrating day yesterday and that all frustrations she felt needed to be worked out through some absurd, chaotic, hip-thrusting, butt wiggling, shimmy shaking Zumba moves. But really, there is a time and place for everything. And when your business is all up in my grill-it's neither the time nor the place. Frequently I found myself staring, mouth agape like a teenage boy at the spectacle before me. At this point I had to remind myself that:

A: I am not a teenage boy, so please, advert your eyes

B. It's rude to stare and some people are just plain crazy

C: As far as I knew, this is beginning Zumba

D. When I am eating your hair, it's too close

and 

E. Who in the world said it was okay to make my personal exercise space part of your zumba freak fest?

Needless to say, I'm kind of excited for the game she brings next week. Oh, and I'm Zumba'ing on the opposite side of the room.

so i'm kind of sort of freaking out...

I got Hunger Game tickets for an 8:00 showing on Thursday, March 22nd. Ya. You read that right. Connections, you know? FREAK OUT. 'Nuff said.

Tumblr Tuesday

I just had to share, these are just too cute to keep to myself:

You're welcome world. 

Zumba!

My dear dear friend Julia texted me a while back and asked me if I would like to embarrass myself by trying to shake my hips and keep to the beat of fast paced music. In other words, Zumba. Naturally, I had to think on this decision for a moment. And to myself, I thought, "it's beginning Zumba, how hard can it be? everyone will struggle to look good shaking their hips along with me, right?" With that conclusion I naturally said that I would be happy to sign up with her. The following basically sums up my first Zumba class experience:

And, yes, I am pretty much sure that that the bottom photo is exactly what we both looked like. I would know because they not only force you to make a fool of yourself, but make you WATCH yourself making a fool of yourself in a mirror. To put it bluntly I looked like an absolute doofus. AND IT WAS A BLAST. I can't wait for Wednesday when I can make a complete fool of myself all over again!

oh and p.s.
i was wrong. apparently a lot of older women know how to shake their hips and keep to the beat to fast paced music.

A Trip to the Magic Kingdom!

I would just like to start off by saying that Disneyland IS the happiest place on earth. Don't even try to argue with me, because you kind of won't ever convince me otherwise. I once heard a poor fool once say that Lagoon was way better than Disneyland. And I was like... "...." no words, no words. I mean, who the heck are they trying to kidd? To prove the doofus wrong I went on another trip to Disneyland and have come to find that I was right all along. Disneyland IS the best.

HA. Look at that twerp in the back row. Cracks me up every time.

I have ALWAYS wanted to meet Mulan. But it's weird because she NEVER walks around at Disneyland. But as luck would have it, Disneyland is celebrating Chinese New Year! And you know what that means, right?! They hand out free egg rolls! Kidding, actually, they don't, but Mulan and Mushu are out and about! I waited in line for 15 minutes and my nervy sister thought it funny to stand next to MY Mulan. *sigh*

 No matter what I do, I can never meet Rapunzel AND Flynn at the same time. It's like he knows I want to meet him...and thinks it's funny to never show. Jerk. 

Three words. Midway Mania Champion. Smoked my families hides every game we played. SMOKED.

Haha, ok, I had to put these two pictures by each other. Look at the picture below, now look at the picture above. Get it? Jungle Cruise, Tom Cruise? Haha I am SO good. So I'm walking in California Adventures, admiring the scenery when all of a sudden I'm like, "holy heart failure!" that's Tom Cruise. It's true, he brushed past me. Brushed past me. I just kind of sat there with my mouth open, arms sitting awkwardly at my sides in utter shock at what just happened to me. His daughter is spoiled rotten, and he is really short but holy crap, Tom Cruise?!

Remember this dashing young man I dedicated an earlier post to? He. Was. Still. There. In my astonishment and bursts of excessive celebrating and doe eyed looks I completely spaced to talk to him OR get a picture with him. Funny thing, but seeing this kid made my heart beat faster than a brush past Tom Cruise. Best day ever.

Best purchase I ever made was my annual passport to the Magical Kingdom. I can go and go and NEVER get sick of it. It is THE best. Thank you Mom and Dad for once again inviting me along. We made so many great memories. I can't wait to go back!