exercise

I am fat.

Well, pudgy actually.

Pleasantly plump. It’s called “happy-fat”.

Yup, I’m in love. Ya know, when you’re like so happy that all you do is eat? And go out to restaurants, and eat. And hang out together, and eat. And eat, and eat…and eat. My ass is begging me to break up with this guy. It’s saying, “Please Jen, be miserable again. I am the size of a truck.” For real. I have gained 6 pounds since I started dating Pita-boy, and I swear it’s not from the heat. Or salt. And no, I can’t be pregnant. ha. That’s funny shit. I am just happy. It’s like in the beginning of the relationship, so you don’t wanna act like a fucking freak, right? So, you just eat like a “normal” girl. No crazy fad dieting, no eating salsa with a fork, or working out like a mad-woman after you have that dessert on Saturday night. Men hate crazy. And they really hate women who don’t eat. And I hate men that act like psychos, too. Eat the flippn’ cookie, will ya?! Just take a bite of that fatty, cholesterol-filled steak, and LOVE it as much as you love me, dang it!! Omg! Just sink your teeth into it, and then worry about it tomorrow. Jesus. Life is too short. We can go home, and have insane sex for like 3 hours, and work that shit off. Yes, I just said that. I did. Sex is way better than working out. You know it, I know it…and yes, I just said it. There.

Which is why I have missed Jazzercise for the past month. I have chosen sex over exercise. I have started a new fad. I’m calling it SEXERCISE. omg. I am funny. Not really. I’m just trying to make myself feel better for missing my classes for the past 6 weeks. Fuck. Pun intended. I have been to lazy, and too “dream-boaty-in-lust” to get my ass out of bed….and into my Lululemon vagina-huggers. I suck. Pun intended, again. I am on FIRE!

I am SO sorry Allegra! (Allegra is my girl. She owns Jazzercise in Charlotte. Shout out!) But, truly. It’s all my guy’s fault. I am totally blaming him. Have all y’all tried Jazzercise? It’s almost as good as sex. Bringing back the 80’s, fer sure, it’s off the hook. And clearly what makes my endorphins rise. My girls, Tammy, Jen and Sue…we all meet for class, at 8am. And we rock that shit out! Best workout ever. If you love to dance, and look like total dorks while sweating your ass off, then this is for you. But, I have missed it. Been too busy. Eating. Drinking. And well, ummm….having sex. ha. Don’t be haters. I deserve it. Stop reading, Daddy. Mom, you can keep reading. Ok, I’m maybe a little bitter. I miss working out,  I do! And I am puffy! It’s like what happens when you’re happy, right? Just say right. And Scott said the same thing, he is a runner. He loves working out. He does flipping triathlons. Yummy. Shit, I am in so much trouble. He is so going to kick my ass. Good thing he likes me! But it’s been SO fun! And you girls all know what being newly divorced is like… can’t get enough sex! Or is that just me? Maybe it’s me, and all the other 40-ish women out there that haven’t had sex in like, forever….and they are in their prime. Yup! That’s it! My bad. ha.

So, what do you do? Time management is just not my thing! Work, kids…exercise, and a new relationship! Wow. And keeping it all together. 

But I swear, today, I looked at Scott, and I told him…NO MORE. Not sex. Duh. NO MORE EATING. No more. I am going all “crazy-Jewish-Girl” on him. This could possibly end it. Nothing worse than a neurotic Jewish girl on a diet. Remember how I like to order my food? Yikes. Maybe I should pull up that blog entry to remind us. Wait, maybe not. I went to Jazzercise today, had only coffee for lunch, and hummus for dinner. I had a banana for breakfast, and I’m drinking water with my essential lemon oil drops in it, to “cleanse” my system. I am ready for biz. And I’m also ready to eat my left arm. I’m seeing dead people I’m so fucking hungry, and I’m a total crotch. Who wants to hang out with me tomorrow? Seriously, at this rate…I will most likely be single again soon. No man would like me this nasty. Maybe that’s why Mark used to say he liked me better when I was fat? I took it as the ultimate insult.  Like the meanest thing a man could ever say. But really, maybe I was just happier when I was fatter? I wasn’t so god damn hungry all the time! And I was just easier-going. Wow. I mean all those skinny models do look kinda pissy, don’t they? There has to be a happy medium….

Sex, snack…Jazzercise. Wine. Snack. Jazzercise, wine. Sex. Cocktail. Love it. 
Mission accomplished! 

And BTW, if you’re wondering where I’ve been for the past few days, I’ve been fighting with Mark. It’s been exhausting, and not the norm. We have been friends for so long, and the blog has kinda been bugging him. Can’t really say I blame him. His life plastered all over the cyber-Universe. But who knew it was gonna be so wide spread? I had no clue. Anyways, he wants out. He is “done” with it.  Over it. Sick of it. Kaput. Says it’s not his “idea of fun”. Well, Mark I’m sorry this isn’t “fun” for you. Or funny. And if you want out, you can have out. I won’t beg you to stay, even though I happen to think The Truth Hurvitz just won’t be the same with out you, it’s like having Peanut Butter with no Jelly. Hall without Oats. Green Eggs sans Ham. ok, ok…You get the point. Sigh. I just hate to see you go. I am sad. I kinda feel like I’m losing you all over again, but I get it. I do. Time to cut ties. Move on…again. For good. Hakuna Matata. Gotta put the past behind ya. And you are my past, it’s time to write about my future. Right? I mean, what girl is gonna date you if she thinks her life is going to be all over my blog? Unless, she digs this kind of shiz. And then, in that case, this is a TOTAL girl magnet! Ya. Tell your next date that she might be able to be on a reality show! See if that gets you laid, my friend! See!!! I’m just always looking out for you. lol.

Don’t go, Sparky….

Think about it. What if I make it The Truth Hurvitz-Weintraub? ;)

xo j