And here it is: 45

45, as in I'm 45 now.

And if I'm to believe my 4k "My Life in Weeks" poster that hangs above my head ... I'm halfway thru my life.

Dear lord. Is that morbid? 

Even more morbid ... with my family history of 3 of 4 of my grandparents dying before the age of 60 (50, 53, 33), my dad dying at 67, and his sister dying at 54 ...  I suppose that I could have even less time here on the planet. And no, there's not any car accidents or mysterious disappearances in those deaths. Just good old fashioned cancer and/or massive heart attacks. 

So. There's that. 

I don't really have any super strong feelings about it. I mean ... sure ... it's a bit sobering. I'm not having any sort of crisis and/or transformative ideations (OMG ENJOY LIFE NOW! MOVE TO MAUI AND OPEN A CAT RESCUE). I'm not getting a porsche or any of the cliched mid-life crisis crap. 

Although, a porsche would be nice. I'll take this one:

Anyhow ... I ramble. 

For 45 ... I'm going to the gym. I'm going to eat some crab rangoon and my mother's keto cookies (which def cancel out the gym). I'm going to take a salt bath and drink some sparkling wine in the tub. N took me this past weekend for amazing dinner and stayed at an amazing hotel. I've had well wishes from so many friends. Presents and donations and texts and coupons (so. many. birthday email coupons) and free Starbucks.

45 is pretty decent. 

Tap tap tap....is this thing on?

Checking to see if this works....and works from my phone.

It's like November or something

And it's cold.

Already.

Day 29 - Holy crap!

Well, look at that. It is day 29! My, how time flies.

For a normal human being, this would mean that I would be spending my Memorial Day weekend blissfully sipping my beloved wine and demolishing trays of sushi that would make Godzilla jealous.

I dream of this BOAT OF SUSHI happening to my face.

But am I normal? NO. I AM JEN. And obvi, not TEH normal. In fact, I'm probably a bit CRAY.

I have like ... 40 MOAR days of this nonsense. FOR. REAL. I told Nate that the 4th of July is probably going to involve mass quantities of sushi, wine, and for some reason: SMORES. In fact, I might need multiple sushi trips. =)

Oddly enough, I have zero cravings for bread or pizza. I used to be someone who could eat pizza (or a sandwich) every day, ALL DAY, forever and ever, AMEN. But now ... I just want the wine and the raw fish with SUGAR RICE. WHAT TEH F IS WRONG WITH ME?

Also, in the list of WHAT TEH F IS WRONG WITH ME:

• I've been seriously considering wearing clothing that is WHITE. Like the color ... like white clothing on my body. The last time I wore white was my wedding 10 years ago .. and that was vaguely under protest. I actually touched and considering trying on a WHITE FLOWY SKIRT. 
• I work out about 6 hours a week now. WUT?
• I enjoy squats and kettleball. DOUBLE WUT?
• I'm starting up Tango lessons again. WHO ARE YOU?
• I can lift cases of wine like they are nothing. WITHOUT WHINING. 
• I'm starting to carry cash on a regular basis. (Cash tips from work!)

WHO. ARE. YOUUUUUUU?????

I know. It's weird. Especially the WHITE CLOTHING thing. I don't even know ....as my sister once remarked:

"Jen, you could find the GOTH section in an Eddie Bauer."

True. That.

Upcoming: Jen gets new acting shots in a week or so (let me know if you want your signed 8x10). Jen goes to Spokanistan. Jen starts tango again. STAY TUNED.

Day 21 - Hair, wine, and bronchitis

It turned out that my Ebola was actually BRONCHITIS. My poor bronchi had the ITIS. My doctor put me on the exotic ZPAK of antibiotics (made in Croatia, of all places) and also gave me some sweet cough suppressants (which I really think were expensive Vitamin D capsules). Also, fun fact ... if you come into the clinic with a COUGH .. they make you wear a mask the whole time. It was glorious.

REALLY? I have to wear this?? WTF.

I just pretended that I was Bane from Batman the whole time and scared small children.

Also ... in other news I had my hair cut. And ... I mostly hate it. I would like to share with you my conversation via text with my sister.

Me: 

Me: This just in. Stupid hair. News at 11.

My sister: Okay now send me a picture without that face. Do you like it? Do you think it is awesome?

Me: I hate it.  I can't send you a picture without making a face. IT WOULD BE A LIE.

My sister: I can't really judge it with that face.

Me: I call this hair "the boner killah". There. I'm sending you a different picture. I'm picturing murdering the hair stylist.

Me: Maybe I just hate my face? I CAN'T SEPARATE ALL THE HATRED.

My sister: I don't have a revised picture yet.

Me: LOL. It is still sending. It broke the internet.

My sister: Oh stop it

Me: 

My sister: I think you are being silly. It looks fine.

Me: No it is gross. I need a bag for my head.

My sister: You are being ridiculous.

AND SCENE ...**edited for clarity and moar pictures of bad hair**

Let's see. I'm pretty much dying for a glass of wine because it is practically summer, I work at a frickin' winery, and I'm in WINE CLASS (BTW, I am ACING BECAUSE I AM AWESOME).

Other than that ... all is well ... eating all according to Whole 30 and trying to sweat every so often. It is also getting much more better now that the meds have kicked the crap out of my lungs.

LE SIGH

SOON.

Day 9 -- I'm boring

It's been both and awesome week and a kind of lame week.

Awesome: Foods and workouts have been relatively on schedule. I was introduced to the magic of kettlebells and I kinda love them. I moved approximately 80 cases of wine into storage and survived. Oh yes, and I actually started at the winery. I poured wine and everything.

Not our wine ... but imagine a couple of these bad boys.  Each case weighs about 40 pounds.

Lame: I AM STILL SICK. Seriously, I've been sick for a month now. It's a serious buzzkill. I keep saying that I am going to go to the doctor if I'm not feeling better ... and then I keep thinking that this stupid cold/flu/bronchitis/cough/ebola is going to go away.

Basically me with Ebola.

I know, I know .... I should just get my butt to urgent care or to my doctor and get checked out. But ... meh. I REALLY don't want to go. WAAAAAHHHHH.

Also, I REALLY WANT BOOZE. And working at the winery doesn't really help. =)

Yesterday it was warm  and all I wanted at the end of my long day was a nice Pinot Gris. And cheese.

Honestly, those are the two things that I miss. CHEESE and WINE.

WANT. SO. BAD. RIGHT. MEOW.

Le sigh. Anyhow. This weekend I'm going to be at the winery for Passport. I'm having Linner with a friend and going to rehearsal ... so it will be action packed!

Day 3, 4, 5: The days all run together ...

Strap in, it's going to be a wild ride up in here.

Day 3: I woke up feeling PRETTY DAMN SORE from hippy yoga. Mostly my quads ... to the point where having a cat accidentally jump on my lap made me cry like a ... well ....



I then made the mistake of saying "Sure, why not?" to intense radiation to my face skins (I AM VAIN. DO NOT JUDGE ME.). I have done lasers and acids and sandblasting to my face before .. so I thought no big whoop to bipolar radiation ultra face reshaping cookery. It was like having the WORST sunburn of your life .. but with a neat checker pattern. I spent the rest of Saturday with an ice pack to my face and warning the cats to stay away from my quads.

Oh. And I think hippie yoga reactivated my lingering cold/allerigies/ebola/death rattle.

Imagine this + grid/waffle pattern + snot + aching quads = Saturday

Day 4: I basically spent most of Sunday curled up on our coach reading trashy novels. BECAUSE. EBOLA GOO. I did venture to my friend's house to read a play .. but that seriously was the bulk of my activity. Oh and the sorenessss ...

FOR. REAL.

Day 5: Today, has been a pretty easy day. I spied on my across-the-street neighbor dancing for his baby in the garage in a way that can only be explained via this gif:

It was pretty adorable. The cats spent most of the day sleeping or begging for treats. I did a bunch of house chores, worked out ... nothing very exciting. My face is much less red ... but the texture ... it feels like LIZARD SKIN. It's gross.

Onwards and upwards. Hopefully, with 100% less pain/ebola/lizard skins.

Day 2: Angry, Bitter, and Loud ... Yoga!

Today, I went and did a yoga class with my friend, Carolynne. Now, I have taken all sorts of yoga. Hot. Hatha. Power. Vinyasa. Gentle. I've never tried this particular flavor: Kundalini. Carolynne warned me that it was going to be "chanty and hippie" and probably unlike most yoga I've done before. And yes ... all those things were true.

Let me now share with you my inner monologue during the class:

"For a yoga teacher ... you sure are surly."
"He totally didn't even acknowledge my joke about the release form. JERK."
"Whoa. Did you just tell that girl to STAY OUT OF YOUR BUSINESS.????"
"My mat is SO pretty. Oh .. wait. It's Nate's pretty pink mat. Dammit. I have mat envy."
"Yoga teacher gets to sit on a platform and spin mad beats like a DJ? Awesome."
"Mac Book. Nice."
"I shouldn't have sat in front. I can tell he hates me already."
"Oh. We are chanting? I need a script here."
"Dragon Fire breathing? OMG. I'm going to pass out."
"Dude. I can't even breathe properly. This is going to suuuuuuccccckkkkk."
"I feel SO high right MEOW."
"Oh shitballs. More breathing? Um. Lord Shiva help me."
"I have to put my arms at 60 degrees? Can I do about a 47 degree slant?"
"MY ARMS ARE ON FIREEEEEE."
"Passing. Out. Now."
"Oh thank god we are standing now."
"It's ok. Just go slow."
"I can hear that girl in the back breathing from here. She's an EXPERT breather."
"Yes, yoga dude. I'm trying to be DETERMINED. I'm determined NOT TO DIE RIGHT NOW."
"This pose is like an X-Wing fighter. I AM LUKE SKYWALKER, BITCHESSS."
"Hmm.. Shoulder pose. Not. Happening."
"Look, with all our feet in the air it looks like we are pedaling the sky!"
"Whoa. Kinda high again."
"Do. Not. Have. Core. Strength."
"Oh plow pose? LOL. Not. Happening. My boobs would suffocate me."
"More chanting. I think I got this one. Something about heart and then Siri from the IPhone and Wagyu beef."
"Expert Breather is also Expert Chanter. SO. Loud."
"YAY! Time to lie down. I'm super good at this part."
"..."
"......................."
"..................................................."
"Did Yoga dude leave?"
"..............................................................."
"..........................................................................."
"Seriously, are we being trolled right now????"
"Oh thank Shiva .. he's returned from his smoke break."
"Aww. There's singing now. I'll just make noises with my mouth."
"So ... how long should I sit here? I don't want to be the first one to roll up Nate's pretty pink mat."

And then ... the class was over. It was definitely .... different. And hard. And I'll probably be feeling it tomorrow. =)

Day 1: Coffee, Jeans, and Decay Pr0n

You may ask yourself ... so what does Jen actually DO all day now that she's not slinging that sweet email code?

Short answer: Well, it varies.

Take today. Today was a jambalaya of activities.

First, I got up and headed over to my friend's house to help out with some spring cleaning and visit with her kidlets. I must have been dragging because her oldest (preschool aged) said:

"I think Auntie Jen needs more coffee."

Not her child. But it IS offering me coffee.

Ah, out of the mouths of babes.

After cleaning (and watching Frozen ... LETTGO LETIT GOOOOOOO), I headed down to Pioneer Square to play tourist. I had never done the "Underground Tour" before so I thought I'd give it a visit. It was 90 minutes well spent. AND ... it was on my 101 in 1001 project, so double score.

Also, if you are into DECAY PR0N then this is the tour for you. Musty, moldy, damp, rusty ... it serves all shades. I didn't see any ghosts down there but I can definitely see why the BRO-DUDES from Ghost Adventures / Ghost Hunters thought it was cool. It definitely had ambiance.

Next, I drove back to the comforts of the east side. The cats made sure I was eating Linner properly. I got caught up on email and laundry.

OH. LAUNDRY. For several YEARS, I've been trying to get my lovely, sainted husband to consider wearing a different style of jeans. I determined the best way to get this to happen is to just to buy a bunch of different types jeans and make him try them on at home. In the kitchen. While he's trying to make dinner.

Not Nate's jeans. 

And huzzah! He kept the ones I picked! (Mostly so he could get back to cooking chicken) So now they are busy getting washed for his future use. Now ... if I can only get him to give up some of his t shirts. The man hoards t shirts and socks.

Not Nate's t shirt. But very well could be.

As for my little Whole 30 project ... easy peasy. The first days aren't the hardest for me ...it's the 10-12 day range where the rubber meets the road.

Thanks for following along! =)

OHAI

Soooo. About that. Last time I posted it WAS AUGUST. AUGUST. OF LAST YEAR. 2013.

Entirely unacceptable.

Y'all ... SO much has happened. SO. MUCH.


Bullet points:

• I spent A LOT OF TIME working or traveling for work Nov - March
• In January, I signed up for this awesome program called Precision Nutrition (PN).
• I said "HASTA LA VISTA" to my awesome job on March 28th 
• For the last 4 weeks I've been traveling to exotic locales (Spokane! Tucson! West Seattle!), going to classes, working on house projects, going on auditions, working on my 101 in 1001, annoying my cats, etc.

With all this "free time" I started thinking about my sad and lonely blog and my Whole 30 challenge last summer. And I thought .... why not give it another whirl? You know ... for fun!

ARE YOU EXCITED??? ZOMG!

And then I thought ... why not make this interesting? Why not try going for 60 days? Or hell ... why not try for ... I don't know .... THE FOURTH OF JULY. 72 days from today. 

*insert record scratch*

Jen, you be SERIOUS CRAY. Didn't you JUST start wine classes? Aren't you maybe (fingers crossed) going to start working AT A WINERY? ARE YOU CRAY????

Yeah. I'm cray. I got the wine thing figured out. Hold on, really.

1. Wine class: I HAD to sign a waiver ... promising that I wouldn't actually drink any wine. Any tasting I do has to be spit out. Yes, really. AND OMG SO F-ING GROSS.

2. Winery: Meh. See #1. =)

One other slight deviation. The Whole 30 says: "You are not allowed to step on the scale or take any body measurements for the duration of the program."

The thing is with my PN program (see above) is that the food is VERY compliant with the Whole 30 and workouts are totally legit .. however ... PN likes me to weigh/measure and take pictures (kinky bastards). So ... that will be the one concession. I'm ok with it. REALLY.

I'm hoping to blog something at least every other day about this little adventure. I may throw some other stuff in here and there about my other #funemployment shenanigans.

Excited? Let's do this thing! EXCELLENT!

Day 9? I think ... ah .. who knows?

STATS:

Day 1, 8/14: 7531
Day 2, 8/15: 7703
Day 3, 8/16: 8004
Day 4, 8/17: 7601
Day 5, 8/19: 8139
Day 6, 8/20: 8040
Day 7, 8/21: 7726
Day 8, 8/22: 7651

Let me tell you. It's been rough going. Last night, you could find me aimlessly wandering my local Target until 1030pm to get my step count for the day.

I'm horrible about waking up early. I'm horrible about leaving my desk at work. I tend to prioritize everything else above getting my exercise in for the day ... and then I'm stuck on these late-evening death marches to make up the difference. It sucks. I suck. I'm a horrible human being.

And frankly, right now I'm at 2400 steps at 626pm on a Friday ... and the thought of cramming 5100 steps in before I go to sleep tonight seems pretty gross. I'm tired. I'm cranky. I'm cold. I'm hungry. BLAH BLAH BLAH.

Oh ... and of course there's also yoga to do still. Even Rodney is pissing me off lately.

I'm just mad at myself for not planning my life better and I have a huge case of the I-DONT-WANNAS.

SO THERE!

Day 7: One week down ...

First ... STATS:

Day 1, 8/14: 7531
Day 2, 8/15: 7703
Day 3, 8/16: 8004
Day 4, 8/17: 7601
Day 5, 8/19: 8139
Day 6, 8/20: 8040

I'm becoming more skilled at figuring out how to squeeze in more steps during the day (HELLO walking down 15 flights of stairs!) and so my DEATH MARCHES are slowly getting less DEATH-Y.

Have I mentioned my DAILY fear of falling down and breaking my ankles? Yes? Okay. Moving along.

In other news, I've had three different people, AT MY PLACE OF EMPLOYMENT, ask me if I had lost weight. Which ... I have complex feels on the subject.

I try to stay as ninja as possible (hence the soft soled shoes and all black) so any sort of "noticing" me is counter to my ninja code. And semi-public praise / commentary about my body is ... well ... weird.

I mean .. would you go up to someone and say ... HEY! I noticed that your boobs are substantially larger than how I remember them. Are you breastfeeding or are those puppies fake? New bra? (Most likely no. At least, I hope not ... for your sake.)

I know. This is a different thing. And it's all well-intentioned. And I get it. And it's not bad, per se. But it still makes me feel a little ... weird. You would think I would feel happy and awesome about the comments. But alas, no. It makes me feel ... gross. It's like I am putting the NEGATIVE NANCY filter on the comment. So instead of hearing:

Hey! You look like you've lost weight. Good for you!

I HEAR:

Hey! I noticed that your gross/giant/misshapen body is slightly less gross/giant/misshapen.  Thanks for complying with society's demands on you to fit in with the rest of us, FATTY.

LE SIGH. I know. Not productive. Not helpful. Not PC. Not awesome. Welcome to the world of constant self-loathing.

In other less revealing and neurotic news ... I took a 24 break from Rodney. I wanted some space to think about our relationship and where things are going between us. I think I've made some progress. We'll see.

Well, I gots to get to stepping. I'm also scheduled to go take a ballroom dancing class in an hour. UNIVERSE HELP ME.

I'm kinda hoping for:



I will settle for : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WSoASknNuXU (sans the white outfit . .. I will take the Bradley Cooper)

Day 5: Keep on Keepin' On

Hiyas. Sorry, I've been away from the computer. I have to do these silly walks (DEATH MARCHES) that are taking up my valuable TV/MOVIE/XBOX/READING/COMPUTER times.

And all the yogas. Of course.

The count so far:

Day 1, 8/14: 7531
Day 2, 8/15: 7703
Day 3, 8/16: 8004
Day 4, 8/17: 7601
Day 5, 8/18: 7734

Believe me. There were a couple of times where I just did not want to go on a walk to get my steps. But I did it anyway. Because I fear the shaming of the internet. I also strive to be a person who keeps their promises, at least to other people. I'm horrible about keeping promises to myself. FYI.

OH! In Rodney news. On Day 3 he had ANOTHER GIRL IN THE VIDEO. I was like ... oh come on .. RODNEY! THIS IS OUR SPECIAL TIME!!!

I guess it's his wife. Whatever.

HE was like all: Jen, this super bendy girl is going to show you how to do stuff and I'm going to talk you thru it all. Don't be scared. This is natural. This is how humans ARE. Humans do yoga together.

So ... in the name of experimentation ... I went along with it. It's not my favorite .. but I love my Rodney and want to keep him happy.

ALSO ALSO: I'm still (STILL!) doing the Whole 30 (now Whole 44). Nothing SUPER magical is happening except the need for new clothessss and my blood sugar is approaching perfection. You know. Nothing much.

All right. I gots to get to stepping. PEACE!