Who is this lady?

Sunday, June 30, 2013

The One Where I Truly Know I'm in California

Having lived in Southern California for almost 4 years now, I've seen and experienced a lot of things that are quintessentially California. For example, I've seen and driven through tons of LA traffic:

It's my favorite thing ever when it takes me 3 hours to go 50 miles....

I've seen my fair share of small children with their own iPhones/iPads:

I've seen a LOT of bad plastic surgery:

I'm really sorry if this picture gives you nightmares
Basically every restaurant out here has a vegetarian/vegan section of their menu (that is, if the whole menu is not vegetarian/vegan):

And I've had to decipher some very confusing conglomerations of parking signs while out and about:

But I think my experience at yoga tonight REALLY solidified for me that yes, indeed, I am in Southern California.

Let me set the scene.

So earlier this afternoon, I was feeling like a lazy bum since I'd basically been watching Friday Night Lights for the past 3 hours straight. (Yes, I've seen the whole series already, I'm just going through it again. Team Coach Taylor and Mrs. Coach!) So I looked up what yoga classes were going to be at my yoga place tonight and signed myself up for the 6:15 Ashantaga blend class. 

After making myself dinner, I pulled on a tank top and my fave Zella workout capris (you can get them here) and drove on over. As I step in the door of the studio, I hear someone talking to someone/something like you would a baby. And as I come around the corner to put my mat down, I almost step on this tiny white dog who is sticking its tongue out at me. So, of course, I say hello to the dog, thinking it's the studio owner's dog and she'll be taking it out once we start class. 

Then I spot the monogrammed basket for the tiny white dog in the corner and realize it's some girl taking the class's dog. As in she not only brought her tiny white dog with her TO YOGA, she also brought her little basket so she wouldn't have to sit on the ground while we Warrior One'd and breathed in and out and did handstands, etc. 

I'm not gonna lie... I'm pretty sure my judge face was at a level 10 once I realized what was going on. I couldn't help it. Even now, just thinking about it, I have full on judge-face. But I made a picture representation so you could get a better idea of what the scene sort of looked like (except the real basket had a polka dot pattern, it wasn't just plain pink).

Take it all in, dog...
I mean, I love living here, but sometimes... 

Saturday, June 29, 2013

The One Where I Feel Like Jessie Spano

Okay, first of all, this is (semi) unrelated to what I'm about to write about but I put on these Nike leggings to wear to the gym and... they are like completely see-through. While I have no problem having VPL at the gym because... it's the gym... I have a wee bit of a problem wearing pants where you can just plainly see my entire underwear. What the heck. I don't want to go commando to the gym. That feels like I'm asking for a car wreck on the way there so when the paramedics come to rescue me, and they have to cut off my pants, not only will I be pantsless, I'll be underwearless too. Mortifying. Additionally, if I do actually make it to the gym, isn't going commando asking for a downstairs infection? I understand this is a very first world problem, but I feel like this is a legitimate dilemma right now. Especially because the rest of my workout clothes are in the washing machine right now. So now I've gotta wait for them to get all washed and dry. I guess I could wear shorts... I've never worn shorts to the gym before. To spin, yes, because nobody's really looking at you in spin, especially if you're in the back row. The gym, however... it's a different vibe over there. 

I know many a person for whom this is true. I, on the other hand, would NEVER judge someone at the gym... 

Whatever. This situation did not deserve all the words I devoted to it. Are you annoyed yet? No? Good. Read on.

So, first, let me explain the title of this blog post. For those of you (mother) who do not know who Jessie Spano is, she was on Saved By The Bell (SBTB) back in the '90s. She was a classic Type A high school student who was unfortunately driven to caffeine pills in one particularly memorable SBTB episode. After consuming about 50x the recommended maximum (I am making this statistic up), she freaks out at Zach Morris telling him she's So Excited... I'm So Excited... I'm so... scared! Observe:

Now... you may be asking yourself... why does NancePants feel so excited and yet so scared?

Because of THIS:

Before we go any further, I just need to clarify that even though that says Nike Women's Marathon, I will be participating in the half marathon. I have absolutely no desire to do the full. But... the astute will also realize that because this race is in San Francisco, I will be running insane hills. For 13.1 miles. But guess what - I will be met at the finish line by either a hottie in a suit or a firefighter holding a box with a 10th Anniversary Nike Women's Marathon Tiffany necklace for me. I had to enter in a random draw for this race - you can't just sign up for it. 30,000 women will be running this race. Just thinking about that overwhelms me, but also excites me. Hence the Jessie Spano comparison. 

The race is in October. I will actually have to fly from DC, where I'll be for a conference in the days leading up to the race, directly to San Francisco. Again, insanity. They sent me a training schedule which starts Monday, July 8. My goal for this race is to PR at 2:50 or under and I'm seriously contemplating a significant diet change for the duration of my training. I'll keep you filled in with what I decide to do. While I trained for my last two half marathons, I feel like there's another whole level of training I haven't hit yet, but I feel like I'm ready to go there. 

I met up with Nicole, who blogs over at A Life Less Bullshit , yesterday. She is on a quest to have lunch with 100 people prior to her 30th birthday and I am so in love with her blog/life I emailed her and we met up at this cool restaurant in Venice called Cafe Gratitude yesterday to discuss her bullshit-free life philosophy. So, no, I didn't know her in real life before I emailed her. I'm not 100% sure how I originally found her blog, but I love it. She is also a runner so we talked about that quite a bit. It was cool to talk to someone who also didn't think they could ever be a runner until they tried it (hell-o story of my life). She also said something that I loved - you just gotta try the things. You may think you know how you feel about something, but the truth is, you don't until you try it, so just try. If you like it, keep doing it. If you don't, stop doing it. Talk about bullshit-free! And yes, obviously easier said than done, but I'd like to stop thinking thinking thinking and just start trying. So here I go.

Also, I think I need this amazing tank top from Ruffles With Love:

Who wants to buy that for me???

Thursday, June 27, 2013

The One Where I Felt Like an Adult

I know a lot of you who read this little piece of internet business can relate to what I'm about to write about. So, even though I pay my own billz and have a job and am like "responsible" and legally considered an "adult" by the great USA, it's hard for me to really think of myself as a true adult most times. Well, except when I'm in elementary schools and the kids are in awe of me and guesstimate my age at about 103 (true story... that's how old a first grader thought I was once) and then I just feel ancient. But most of the time, I'm running around thinking about how the "adults" are some people older than me who are in charge and make decisions and actually vacuum on a regular basis instead of when the insane cleaning freak comes out in them every so often.

Like that woman. Let's call her Sheila. She looks like an adult (also, thanks Shutterstock). She never lets the milk go bad or has to wear bathing suit bottoms for underwear because she doesn't have any clean ones left. She always remembers to charge her phone before she leaves the house and pays a mortgage. 

Needless to say, I do not very often feel like Sheila.

Except I did this past Sunday.

Here's the scene: I'm leaving the Village (the Claremont Village, for those unfamiliar) and I get in my car and put the key in and *sputter cough blerhg* <---- that is the sound your almost dead battery makes when you try to turn your car on and you need a new battery.

R.I.P.,  car battery. But instead of crying or calling my dad to figure out what I needed to do, I simply opened my (relatively neat) glove compartment, pulled out my roadside assistance card, and called for help. And then sat and waited with my Starbucks and a copy of National Geographic magazine (girl's gotta have something to read while waiting for Quali-T towing!) and didn't panic. In fact, I distinctly remember thinking "well... that's life." 



Who am I? [Sheila, apparently.] The last time I needed to get a new car battery, I called my dad AND I cried and shivered and panicked in the cold, dark parking garage at the Detroit airport and felt sorry for myself for another 3 days following the incident. Now? The only reason I remember I had to get a new car battery is because my roadside assistance card is sitting on my desk waiting for me to put it back in my glove compartment tomorrow.

Being an adult is tremendously rewarding, but feels oh-so-weird at the same time. "With great power comes great responsibility." (Pop quiz - who said that originally?) I mean, it's still bizarre to wake up and look in the mirror every morning and not see my 12 year old face staring back at me. Will that every go away? Will I ever start thinking of me and my peers as the people who are in charge of stuff?

I invite you to share a moment where you truly felt like an adult... and it freaked you out. And discuss.

Monday, June 24, 2013

The One Where You Learn I Listen To Your Conversations in the Bathroom, So Talk Carefully

So I'm in the bathroom at the gym tonight before I started my workout, thinking about how much I wish I had brought a different tank top to wear and wondering if I actually bought broccoli at the grocery store last night or just imagined I did when these two girls/ladies about my age come in chattering at each other about the guy one of the girls likes. The conversation proceeds as follows:

Friend A:"I mean... What am I gonna do about this guy? I like him!" [sounds disgusted at the thought of that]

Friend B: "Well... Why is that a problem? I mean let's be real. You probably won't like him in like a week." 

Friend A: "No, but really, I mean, this guy's just. ... You know." 

Friend B: "Yeah, I know. I hope no one else is in here listening to this." 

Well, surprise bitches! I was listening. And besides sounding borderline dumb, your conversation actually made me smile because it made me start thinking about how one of my favorite things in life is the ability to talk like a total idiot who may not actually be familiar with the English language around your friends and they still know exactly what you mean. 

For example, I can turn to Amanda and say "God, remember that time at Toby's with the fetus and the blechhh?" And she knows exactly what I mean and then we laugh like hyenas for 20 solid seconds. 

Or I can watch the Prancersize video with Shelly and look at her and say "That lady! At the Rose Bowl!" And again, she knows exactly what I mean. 

It's the best.

I'm just having one of those weeks where I am feeling EXTREMELY grateful for all of my amazing friends, whether they live near or far. Serious sap factor over here. But it's making me want to listen to a little Joe Cocker. And I can't complain about that.

Sunday, June 23, 2013

The One Where I Can't Believe How Long It's Been Since I've Written

Hot damn.

It's been a while.

Hold on, I need to clear out the cobwebs from this place. 

Okay. Now that we have that out of the way. I don't really have a good excuse for not blogging recently. I mean, I've been busy, but when am I not? First things first, I realize I never told you what I got my sister as her epic birthday gift.

What, you can't tell what that is from this high-quality picture? Okay, just in case you need a hint... I got her her own personal Beyonce The Giant Metal Chicken!!! Click that link in case you are not sure what I am talking about. [Mom, there's a lot of swear words.]

ANYWAY. I've been gallivanting around...

Taking my dad's bomb.com cowboy boots... 

Loudly expressing my displeasure with these sparkle crotch shorts at Victoria's Secret...

Going to baseball games...

Wearing those cowboy boots to Tim McGraw concerts... 

Baking insane tie dye cakes for certain friends' graduation parties...

ConGRADulations, Amanda!!!!!!!! 

Going to beer festivals...

Witnessing grown men engage in beer-chugging contests...

Taking hotel selfies like a boss...

 And making a good, old-fashioned fortune teller to help predict my friends' futures.

Oh yes, and dating dudes. What's up eHarmony. Neil Clark Warren sort of knows what he's doing, I guess. Haven't met anyone super special yet. And dating is time-consuming, y'all! [Side note: can we just talk for a second about how much I wish I was Southern so I could say y'all legitimately?]

So. There ya have it. The super condensed version of my recent life. I promise I won't abandon you like that again. Trust me, I know what it feels like. I'm debating trying a legit boxing class this week. And by debating, I mean I am making myself go, I just haven't decided which night I'm going to. Cuh-LEAR-ly I will report back on that.

I will leave you with one of my new favorite songs. Luke Bryan. Stop. Except don't.