January Gym Griping

The following rant is brought to you courtesy of the millions of advertising dollars spent during the last and first two weeks of the year in order to drive gym memberships. And, by my cranky, “I’m really trying to lose my holiday weight, so no I don’t want your Girl Scout cookies. Well, maybe just one. Box. Dammit why’d I do that, I’m going to have to work extra hard at the gym tomorrow,” attitude…

Oh my GOD I hate the gym in January. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I'm self-conscious enough being there, overwhelmed by trying to remember the different combinations of workouts, knowing how to use the machines accordingly, and painfully aware of my lumps, bumps, sagging, jiggling, and flapping. Having to be there with tattoo'd meatheads and teeny-tiny Miss Thang's all around me, all of whom clearly spend an exceedingly large amount of time there, isn't exactly my idea of a party. But when you add in the onslaught of New Year’s Resolution-ers, gym time becomes nothing but a waiting game for floor space or a free machine. And then, when it's finally my turn, my fat-girl damaged self-consciousness kicks in and I immediately feel the pressure of someone now waiting for me to figure out what I'm doing, get on with it already and just be done. Ya know I ate too much over the holidays, too, people, but I was here last month, and the month before. Yes, yes, not as often as I should have been, but shouldn’t that time count towards me getting priority usage of the equipment versus someone who hasn’t shown up since August? I say yes.  

And then there's the gym newbies. Not the first time at THIS gym, newbies, but the “I’ve never been to a gym but my doctor told me I’d better get to it, and the new year seems like a great time to start,” newbie. Now, I’m not a complete bitch, I get that at one time everyone's got to start somewhere, and I was certainly no different. In fact I was well into my adulthood before I got into a gym routine, and was completely overwhelmed when I started, so I do have empathy for these folks, and I truly do applaud them for getting there in the first place. But…. please schedule a session for an orientation of the place so that you can understand the basics, like how to make the cardio machines start. And stop. (Although I do appreciate the laugh on that one). More importantly though, take a look around you, observe the general etiquette and try to replicate it as much as possible. Need help getting started? My pleasure.

• If there are multiple cardio machines of the same type open, do not use the one right next to me. Do you go into an elevator and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the only other person in there too? If so, we need a separate discussion on personal space. 
• If I am mid-workout movement, earphones in, and more than likely noticeably counting my reps, now is not the time to strike up a conversation. You’re going to make me stop what I’m doing, lose count, and have to start over. Or, in my case, stop altogether and pretend I was finished anyway. Neither is good for me. 
• Please remember you are in public, therefore grunting your way through a workout is not ok, especially when it sounds disturbingly like you’re enjoying the heart pumping activity just a little too much, if you know what I’m saying. 
• I can’t believe I even have to mention this, but when you’re done with a machine, you need to whip it down. And if you’ve been dabbing your sweaty self with a towel as you go, I’d really prefer you NOT use that one for the machines. Most gyms have some type of wet wipes or paper towels readily available. Find them.

When I'm rich and famous, (Ok, I'll settle for just rich. Prefer it, in fact), I'm going to have a full blown gym in my house with a personal trainer who drags me out of bed every morning and works me out in private. No sexual innuedo indended! I really, really want that. But despite my continued investment into the lottery and my 25 year correspondence with Publisher’s Clearinghouse, I’m still workin’ for the man. I guess that means I’m going to have to deal with January at the gym for the foreseeable future. Think it’s inappropriate to place a basket full of those evil Girl Scout cookies just outside the gym entrance with a sign that reads ‘Free box if you cancel your membership today’? Me neither. 

Blogfully yours,
Julie

Like a Fart In a Bottle

Growing up, that is the phrase that my mother used to describe my sister or I if we were too full of energy and didn't know what to do with ourselves. I don't really remember if there was a specific behavior that would trigger this name calling, but it always stopped me in my tracks and made me go into analysis mode. 

What exactly did she mean? Was she being mean to me? Or was it a compliment? Didn't feel like a nice thing to have said to me, but then again, it wasn't exactly an insult either. Or was it? How would she know what it's like to be a fart in a bottle? Maybe it was a good thing. Fun, even. And how in the world did she come up with this expression anyway? Was it a Linda Walsh original? She's had some doozies, but this one seemed out of line from her normal misguided malapropisms. So then where did she hear it? Or from whom did she steal it? A double mystery - origin and meaning - that for quite a while went unsolved.

And why am I telling you all this fart in a bottle nonsense today? Because tonight, as one of my 11-year-olds was pacing the family room, tossing a football to himself from one side of the room to the other, declaring for the 500th time how bored he was on his day off from school, I found myself without so much as a second thought, shouting across the room, "Patrick, will you please knock it off, you're driving me up a wall. Jeez Louise, you're like a fart in a bottle!" Ignoring for a minute that saying it to him was yet another sign that I'm turning into my mother, it struck me how using this phrase was almost instinctive, second nature. And just as it did when I was younger, it gave me pause and led me down the analysis path. But this time, for the first time, I understood exactly what it meant, and sadly, it's really not that complicated. Bottled up farts are explosive, about ready to burst. In fact, the bottle isn't even a necessary part of the analogy, because a fart in a bottle is not vastly different than a normal fart. It's just that telling someone that they're like a fart in an asshole seems a bit more rude, don't you think? But tonight, as I stood there watching my child, with all his nervous energy and no good place to channel it, I could tell that he was about ready to metaphorically explode. A bottled fart trapped with no way out.

I had friends growing up, John and Dave Adey, whose claim to fame was being able to masterfully "cup fart" - fart in their hand and throw it in the face of an unsuspecting friend or loved one who had the unfortunate luck to be close by. I wish I didn't know that sometimes, if they tossed it just right, you could taste it. Likewise, there was a contingent of guys in college who would light their farts on fire. Hilarious and just the right amount of dangerous to be the perfect college pastime. But put it in a bottle? Not only does it seem like it would be tough to execute, but what's the point of just be moving it from one form of containment to another? Seems just cruel, really, both to the person who eventually would open the bottle, and to the fart itself. But the metaphor of it - FINALLY, I got it. Mystery #1 solved!

But what about the origin? Actually, this one I had put to bed years earlier. I forget exactly when but at some point in my adulthood after hearing my mother yet again use this now infamous phrase I broke down and asked her where she'd picked it up. I was confused, horrified, and impressed to learn that she had gotten it from my grandmother's best friend, Grace. A sweet, kind woman who was the Thelma to my Grandma Kitty's Louise.

Grace (left), Queen of the fart bottle metaphor, with her constant companion, Grandma Kitty. Naughty little scamps. 

Though I never heard her myself, I can picture Grace saying it, and can almost hear my grandmother giggling in shock and amusement. Yes, even the most seemingly innocent among us are not above the power of a crude expression.

On that note, I'm really not a fan of the word fart, which might be why I felt a touch of insult when when my mother said this to me, and why I actually felt a bit of guilt using that phrase with my son tonight. (And I suppose why I felt the need to write about it in order to help relieve this guilt.) There really isn't another respectable word for what it's describing, but saying the word has always made me cringe just a little bit, partly with embarrassment, partly with disgust, and partly with "that's not very lady-like" attitude. But what are the alternatives? Flatulence, pass gas, air biscuit, break wind, cut the cheese? All bad options. The fact is, it's just the easiest, most universally accepted word to describe the act. So, I go with it, whether in a bottle or otherwise.  

As for my poor, suffering, bored-out-of-his mind son, he did as he usually does. Looked at me like I had three heads, laughed a little (because I said "fart"), then went back to his bouncing off the wall behavior. I decided tossing the football with him might be a better solve, but he quickly grew tired of my attempts to make him laugh by not taking our game so seriously. Like when I turned my back to him, bent at the waist, and tossed the ball to him from between my legs. And no, I didn't fart when I was bent over....but only because there wasn't a bottle nearby. 

Blogfully yours, 
Julie

Quotes That Get Me Through

I ask you, who among us doesn't have a quote or two that they rely on when they need a little motivation? Or inspiration? Or comfort? I used to think this was just a girl thing, but I've seen more and more of my male friends throw one down, so I guess it's really an all humans thing. I've never considered myself particularly deep or philosophical (and I can hear you laughing at the thought), but there actually are a few quotes that really connect with me, and as such, have become my mantras at one time or another. I'm not necessarily sure of their origin or author, and I tend to favor those that don't require any kind of analysis or interpretation of their message. The obvious, simple, and/or humorous ones usually do the trick. Some are more meaningful and personal to me than others, but in one way, shape, or form, they each speak to me. In fact for most of these I could almost see light bulb going on over my head the first time I heard them, and often times, they provide much needed focus to carry on. Not that they were ever secret, but I decided to share them today because maybe there's one or two that will affect you in the same way. Plus, seeing what connects with someone can tell you a lot about where that person has been or wants to be. So then, consider these words of wisdom a way to help you peel back a layer of the complex onion that is me. Or not. Whatever.

"If you want to know where your heart lies, look to where your mind wanders."

"Nothing changes if nothing changes"

"Sometimes your heart needs time to accept what your mind already knows."

"You can't start the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the last one."  

"You must make a choice to take a chance or your life with never change."

"Your life does not get better by chance, it gets better by change."

"The minute you settle for less than you deserve, you get even less than you settled for."

"Be careful of the toes you step on today. They could be connected to the ass you have to kiss tomorrow." 

"Well behaved women seldom make history"

"Be yourself. Everyone else is taken."

"He who laughs, lasts."

"This too shall pass."

And last, but not least.....

Blogfully yours, 
Julie

Ya Never Know The Reaction You'll Get

I'm getting divorced. Wow, that still sounds weird to say. Or write. Or even admit.  It's been over a year that it's been true, but, yeah, still weird. It's been an interesting journey. I've learned a lot, I've grown a lot, I've changed a lot, all of which is to be expected I suppose in a time of major transition. But something I didn't expect to happen was that I also gained a whole new sociological perspective of the world around me, especially of the people with whom I interact. And I do mean ALL people - friends, family, work colleagues, casual acquaintances, and even complete strangers. And it all came from saying those three little words, "I'm getting divorced." 

It didn't take too long for me to pick up on the diversity and the oddity of how people reacted to the news, and it fascinated me so much that I started to keep track. Just a running list on my phone so that someday I could dissect and analyze them further. I've decided that if and when I write an actual book, this will be my subject. There are chapters and chapters worth of commentary that I could make on each communication, and the potential opportunity to help both the divorcee and the receiver of the news is intriguing. For now, though, I thought it might be amusing and educational to share what I captured in their most raw form.

I found that the reactions tended to fall into categories, so I present them to you as such. Well, all but one. I've purposely not listed comments provided by those I categorize as "The Ex-Trashers." I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that these folks existed, as I'm sure they did for my ex as well.  Soon-to-be-ex or not, I respect and will always have love for him. He is my friend and the father of my children, and just because we are not remaining married does not mean he will not be in my life forever. The lesson here for those who may hear or share similar news, keep these kinds of opinions to yourself, or at least to a very minimum. I understand you may want to help me justify the decision, or empathize with what may have led us here. But chances are you'll see him again, and probably in my presence. Let's not make that interaction any more awkward for me than it already will be.

But enough of that, on to the fun. The following comments were the first or very near first thing said to me after I uttered those 3 words. And before you ask, yes, these are 100% actual verbatims, some of which* I heard more than once. Enjoy.

The Flabbergasted:

• I’m shocked!!! * 
  

(also in the form of staring blankly, wide-eyed silence, stuttering of “WHAT???!!!” or "Holy Shit" or "Na-uh, you're kidding" or anything related)

The Confused:

• But....you’re so funny.*
• Ummmm, congratulations?*
• Wait, should I say congratulations or I'm sorry? 
• How can this be? I had no idea!!!! *
• Will you still call me?
• Can I still call you?
• But I don't understand. You never posted anything about it on Facebook.*

The Rude:

• Can't you just deal with it?
• Isn't it too late?
• Why bother now?
• Is there somebody else? *
• Well NOW what are you going to do? 
• How long had it been since you two had sex? I guess it wasn't good, at least in the end, huh?
• Well it's probably best to do it now - you're not getting any younger.
• God, you must be SO scared.
• Yup, saw that one coming.
• Yeah seems like everyone is doing that (divorce) now, giving up.

The "Get Back On The Horse"

• I know just the person I'm going to fix you up with. *
• You know what you should do now? Sleep around a lot.
• I’ve been there. Best piece of advice I can give you - get yourself a fuck buddy.
• Please tell me you have a hot 30 year old on the side.
• Time to get back out there! Don't be nervous. Besides, if you start dating dudes your age, you're going to see more scariness naked than they'll see with you. 
• Men will fuck a ham sandwich if it says yes. Go get yourself some! 
• You put in almost 14 years. That's worth a gold watch. You're good, time to move on.

The Jealous

• No, really, I get it. I really, really get it. *
• Want a roommate?
• Wow......Congratulations!!
• So, how'd you do it?  
• Huh. It really can be done.

The Right Ones:

• I'm sorry. *
• It'll be ok. *
• This too shall pass.*
• No one understands that staying is the easy thing to do. 
• It's ok to take time just for yourself. Be selfish. *
• You're so brave. *
• I'm here - whenever you need me. * 
• Yep, it happens. Wine?

And there you have it. Some of these I'd expected to hear....many, many more took me completely by surprise. But all of them helped me look at how we judge divorce in a whole new way.  And beyond these initial reactions, what's been even more fascinating has been the change in behavior by these same people, both immediately and has time has gone on. It has been amazing in all ways possible. But that, my friends, is a post, or maybe a book, for another day. If nothing else, I hope this first exploration into divorce news communication serves as a lesson in the fine art of "think before you speak." Something I work at every single day.

Blogfully Yours, 
Julie

Puberty Training

Today my 11-year-old twin boys had their first sex class. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I mean they had their first day of health class about "Growth and Development." Day one of four in which the 5th grade boys are separated from the girls to learn about their changing body, then about a girls changing body, then about STDs, HIV, and abstinence. When the note (permission slip) came home last week I was giddy - GIDDY - with excitement. Yes, for them to be learning about this stuff in a much more structured and correct way than I did, but more for the inevitable questions, misinterpretations, and anticipated conversations between them that I would just happen to be overhearing. I was not there when my stepsons got "the talk" - an unexpected conversation when they were just 8 & 9 years old that started with a question about what a sperm is and spiraled downhill quickly after that. I was both relieved and jealous at the time after hearing how the conversation went. My favorite part being when their father asked if they knew how the sperm got into a woman to reach her egg, with my then 8 year old stepson Tyler answering that "she swallows it?" Their father responded by saying "Well, if you're lucky. But actually...." That night when I got home the boys were very anxious to make sure I knew what they had learned, and then Teddy said the words that I will forever remind him of. "When I get married, I am NEVER having sex. That's disgusting!" Oh how I wished I had a recording of that moment so that I could have sent it, along with a box of condoms, as a welcome to college care package when he got to Penn State. Or maybe as gift sometime when he was in high school? Ugh, I don't want to know. But back to today....

When I picked the boys up, they were already working on their homework from today's lesson. Only 3 statements to address:
1) Name some physical changes that you will experience during puberty.
2) Name some emotional changes you will experience during puberty.
3) Ask the adult that you live with how he/she learned about the body changes that were explained today. (Ha, "the adult that you live with." How very PC of the school district.)

The boys weren't yet finished with the assignment, so I decided the 15 minute drive home would be a perfect opportunity to hear about what they learned and to address any questions. And, more specifically, to get their commentary for my own personal amusement. Here's a few of the more choice questions:

• Why don't they call it "ejection" instead of "ejaculation?" Doesn't "ejection" make more sense?
• How does the ejaculation get out of you?
• Why would anyone want to have an orgasm?
• What's the girl equivalent of ejaculation? 
• When will I have a wet dream? No, I mean, exactly, when? Like today, this moth, this year....
• Will I wake up when I have a wet dream? 'Cause when I have a nose bleed or when I used to pee in my bed, I usually woke up when it was happening. Or I dreamed about peeing and then I was. Will I dream about ejaculating?
• Wait, in an orgasm, the muscle contractions feel good? Why do they feel good? What makes the muscle contractions happen in the first place?
• Why are some penis's circumcised and some aren't?
• What do you mean that uncircumcised penis's are more sensitive? More sensitive how? Mom, WHAT DO YOU MEAN???? Sensitive good or sensitive BAD??????

For the record, it was deemed that I could not adequately answer this last one since I don't have the right equipment, and how could I possibly know what it feels like to have a penis and what penis sensitivity means. Point taken.

As for their homework assignment, they were easily able to answer the first two about the physical and emotional changes to expect. As for the third question, that was a bit harder to address.....for me. Coincidentally and conveniently enough, the boys father is out of town this week. And not just out of town, he is literally on the other side of the world attending a wedding in India. This means that the boys are stuck with me as the the adult who gets to share how I (mostly incorrectly) learned about puberty. Thanks to years of working in women's health, I'm de-sensitized to any embarrassment about genital anatomy or sexuality, so I'm comfortable answering pretty much anything they could throw my way. However, having to admit that my own early knowledge came courtesy of ABC Afterschool Specials, Judy Blume books, and talk on the playground...well, it was downright humiliating. And by the way, MOM, I'm still damaged from finding out during awkward conversations with my friends that making-out and making-love are NOT the same thing, and that a hickey is NOT "kind of like a pimple that you get on your neck."

And so went day one of what I'm sure will be a week of mind-blowing education, more impressive and memorable than any math equation or writing assignment they'll get all year. As the kids went to bed, Patrick's last words to be were to me were "I can't wait to talk about vaginas tomorrow. With pictures!" Me too, little boy. Me too.

Blogfully yours,
Julie

My Tomato Rules. Learn it. Know it. Live it.

If you know me at all, even casually, you probably know that my loathe for tomatoes is deep. It's not just the taste, but the smell, the feel, the very sight....all just repulsive to me. I know, I get it, I'm in the minority here. And I swear, I really wish it weren't the case, if for no other reason because I know that tomatoes are good for me, a healthy food that I would benefit from eating. Why can't it be mayonnaise or cheese that disgusts me so? Alas, it's not, it's these gel-filled, seedy, stinky, skin-that-pops when punctured, nasty-ass vegetables (or fruits, because apparently there's controversy about what class they actual fall into). They make me gag, especially in raw form. I recently heard a term for those of us who feel this way - we are "Mater Haters." LOVE THIS! 

But as much as in general I'm not a fan, the reality is that I'm not completely turned off by tomatoes. It's just that there are very specific parameters around how and when I'll eat them. In fact, I will and do eat them in some of their more processed forms quite often! I didn't actually realize, or, more accurately, wasn't able to articulate these conditions until few years ago, in response to an email discussion with a friend, in which I outlined my tomato rules. At the time I wrote them out for him, I was impressed enough with my ability to so instantaneously and easily be able to express these rules, as specific and ridiculous as they are,  that I saved them, locked in an email draft....until now. I've tweaked a bit for clarity, but here they are - the when, how, and why of  consuming tomatoes in the life of Julie:

- Absolutely, positively NEVER in raw form. The smell alone makes me gag. And like a princess sleeping on a pea a million mattresses away, I will taste that shit if you try and sneak it in.
- No stewed, roasted, sundried, etc.  Now you're just enhancing the raw version, and don't tell me otherwise. Nice try. It may be more "gourmet" or "recipe friendly" by doing this, but I'm out.
- Chopped and ready to use from a can or jar? So the slime has had time to ferment? Uh, yeah, that's not happening..
- Salsa - maybe, MAYBE if it's a crappy jar kind, but likely only as a quick dip for the chip, not for scooping or on brushetta or something like that. And definitely never fresh salsa. The smell caused by the otherwise perfectly good ingredients ruined from being swirled with the chopped raw tomatoes is, of course, nauseating. Why, WHY would you do that? The onions, the peppers, the cilantro...what did they ever do to you?

- Soup - Specifically, tomato soup. Though I love grilled cheese and am to understand that tomato soup is supposed to be it's ultimate companion, I just can't. Too smelly, and it coats my mouth weirdly. Sorry, a no go here as well. That being said, there is a window of opportunity when it comes to other tomato based soups like minestrone. Usually, those are are fine. Not surprisingly, though, I will not eat any chunks of tomatoes in the soup itself. Obviously.
- Ketchup - yes, of course, I'm not a complete crazy person. But I'd rather not smell it. And if it congeals on a plate for too long, like waiting in the sink to be cleaned, yep, I'm gagging again.

- Sauce (aka, gravy) for pasta, meatballs, etc - Now THIS is usually very acceptable. But not chunky. And no one will ever make it better than my mom using my grandfathers recipe. 

Well, there you have it. The rules by which I live. Sad. Yep, I know. But really, probably best that you memorize these. It'll save us both from a long and potentially embarrassing conversation (for me) in the future. 

Blogfully Yours, 
Julie

Facebook Foolishness (aka, Things That Drive Me Nuts, Chapter 1)

I love Facebook. It’s kept me in touch and reconnected me with so many friends, family, and colleagues, many of whom I hadn’t been able to see in years. It’s the perfect way to see as much or as little as I want to, and likewise to do the same when sharing my own life. As someone who wishes she would have pursued writing as a career, it’s also given me a much needed outlet for creativity, even if it’s only to quickly share what I think are life’s funnier or more poignant moments. While I’ve technically got an account on Twitter, Instagram, SnapChat, and a few other social media venues, Facebook I’ve found is the most user friendly and interactive. Right up my alley. (BTW, despite my general apathy toward most social networks, I am a LinkedIn fan, but more for business reasons. That’s another entry for another day).

Unfortunately though, nothing in life is perfect, and Facebook is no exception. Or more specifically, the people who use it aren't. Over the years I’ve learned to walk away from (i.e., block friends) posts that are politically charged or emotionally needy. I’ve got my own opinions and my own issues, and that’s quite enough for me to deal with, thank you. For the most part, this approach has eliminated much of the downside of visiting my beloved site. What I’m left with, however, is my social media pet peeve - those who are just plain Facebook Foolish. These are the folks who think they are making fun or meaningful statements with their posts, but in fact, are really just making themselves look like tools. It’s ok, everyone makes mistakes. I’m guilty of a few of these myself every now and then. Frankly, the occasional offender doesn’t actually bother me. It’s the habitual ones. Same offense, same people. In most cases, I like the individuals themselves, but their posts drive me up a wall and make me want to hurt them. But they are my friends, so I use every bit of willpower I have and refrain. While I’ll never tell who is guilty, maybe you can recognize yourself in some of the most offensive behaviors below. Remember, admitting you have a problem is the first step towards a cleaner life. Please, for the love of Pete, start the cleansing process.

• Hands down, numero uno, the biggest “oh my god you are such an idiot” move….over-hashtagging. And though the use of numerous hashtags in a single post is just obviously ridiculous, the real offense here is when you use a hashtag - even just one - in every…..single….post. Stop it!!! A hashtag is not meant to be another sentence, or punctuation to a thought, or a demonstration of your “hipness” to this new social media thing. It is, very simply, meant to increase prominence, trending and ranking in search tools of certain phrases, events, places, and/or topics. Now, I recognize that using a hashtag can add a certain level of emotional punch or irony, so I am ok with an OCCASIONAL hashtag outside of these parameters. The keyword there is occasional. Once in a fucking while. Please. General rule of thumb, if you’re using a hashtag (or God help us, several) in more than one of every 5-6 posts, you’re guilty of over hashtagging, and nobody likes you. Would it help if I spoke your language? #CutItOut #YouLookLikeADouchebag  
• I’ve yet to meet a parent who isn’t all too proud to share pictures of their kids. Likewise, the holiday card industry would have gone bankrupt long ago if people didn’t enjoy seeing a family snapshot or two of their friends and loved ones. But there is a limit. A daily picture of your child(ren) or family doing pretty much nothing out of the ordinary is really not of that much interest to me. I’m sorry, I love you, and as such do care about your family, but it’s too much. Everyone thinks their kid is the best, cutest, most intelligent one on the planet. That’s what a parent is supposed to think. But nobody likes a bragger, and frankly, I’ll never think your kid is greater than any of mine anyway, so keep the picture posts to a reasonable number. Along these same lines, if you choose to share a photo album of a particular event, there is no need to put hundreds of pictures in there. It only takes a few choice shots to give me the basic gist of how much fun your vacation was. Or how that special school awards thingy went. Or how Spring 2013 was so delightful.  Remember when we were young and an old family member wanted to bring out the slide carousel of their vacation to Yellowstone Park? I can feel your eyes rolling as you recall the agony of having to sit through that shit show. Can’t you just hear the click of the slide advancing over the whir of the machines’ fan? Please remember that pain the next time you're tempted to create an overstuffed Facebook photo album, the modern day equivalent to that slide carousel. Don’t. Just, don’t.
• “Hey everyone, I’m at the gym!” "Now I've gone for walk!" "Look at me, I'm Runtastic!" Oh thank GOD you checked in, friend, I was getting worried that you might have missed a workout.....said no one, ever. Ya know, I'm willing to bet that a good majority of your Facebook friends do some kind of exercising too, so really you’re impressing no one. And if they're not worker-outers, then they definitely don't want to hear about you doing it. Is it a special event, or some fun team outing, or your first Iron Man? In that case, absolutely I want to see it, that's cool and I'm proud of you for a new accomplishment. Post away! But the plain old, I'm here to lift a few dumbbells, get me some cardio, then stop at the store to grab a pound of bacon for dinner...yeah, not so much please. And I really, REALLY don't need to see it every day. There's some of you with gym check-ins that I can set my watch by. Truly not necessary. Not to mention that we see through your blatant attempt to highlight the “good” things you do in order to justify the not-so-healthy stuff you’re likely doing too. In fact I'm willing to bet the unhealthy activity happens more often. I’m here to tell you it’s ok, embrace the bad as well, you are human. In fact I'd enjoy hearing about that entire box of Girl Scout cookies you hid in the closet and ate much more than the gym time. Because THAT is hilarious and relatable. And because I did that same thing last Thursday, but I digress. Bottom line, if you still insist on sharing your “look at me I’m so healthy” gym time, you might as well go ahead and post your bowel movement activity too. Regularity is also, after all, a sign of good health. (By the way, that was sarcasm, please, PLEASE don’t post that shit. Pun intended)
• WOW! You’re eating or have made a food that looks pretty! Or is so very tasty despite being filled with the most natural ingredients on earth! Or (gasp of amazement) is nutritious, delicious, and beautiful! I don’t care. In particular, the pretty presentation is absolutely meaningless. It all looks the same in the end, so why bother with all that effort? Just plop that grub on my plate and let’s get to it. Weird food or dining experience? Then yes, I totally want to hear it. But the “tonight I had a decedent meal of blah-blah fancy food over blah-blah healthy grain with a side of gently sautéed blah-blah vegetable…,” yeah, I seriously don’t care. Rule applies if your dining in or out. And on that note, why are you so amazed at the restaurants ability to make the food presentation so lovely? It’s their job to do that so that people like you will ooo and ahh about it. Now I will admit, I may be biased on this one because I have no interest in cooking whatsoever. And though I do like eating (too much, in fact), I'm quite happy with a dinner of grilled cheese and soup. Bottom line, all the foofy or healthy food talk sounds pretentious to order and/or a pain in the ass to prepare, so either way, I’m not impressed and you just sound like a pompous asshole.
• Ok, look, I’m a bad speller. Always have been, always will be. As far as I’m concerned, Spell Check is a better invention than the wheel. But I make an effort. Could you do the same? And use (or attempt to use) appropriate grammar/phonics skills. And punctuation. And remember to capitalize, correctly. The lowercase first letter followed by all caps in the rest of the word thing is stupid. i mEAN rEALLY dUMB. These are basic skills that you need in life, and when you fail to use them, you don’t sound cool and gangsta. You do, however, sound like an idiot. PS – on a related note and in case you haven’t heard, “ain’t” ISN’T a word, even in the deep south. 
• “Look at my perfect life/family/career.” Oh sweetie, there is no one whose life is that pristine. There's a reason why Stepford is so creepy. Please, just be real. Let me hear about the obnoxious thing your teenager did. Just once I'd love to see a post about someone's kid getting crappy grades. I promise I will be your friend anyway, and probably even more so if I can see the flaws in your life too. Flaws are beautiful, and hilarious, and actually are what make people most comfortable around you. We all have them, let ‘em hang! Lord knows I do. Like, for instance, I tend to fixate and get angry about the dumbest things. Facebook posts, for one…..

Blogfully Yours,
Julie