"Booyah!" Harry Potter Cast Speaks "American"

Work off your turkey weight by laughing at the gem below.

And dude. Malfoy = hot. His "booyah" looks Cali. Weasley is surprisingly adept at "the Freedom Language" as well.

First NaNoWriMo Injury

My keyboard and desk officially attacked my elbow. I kid you not.

I was bouncing (I call it dancing) on the exercise ball I sometimes use as a desk chair when my writing music gripped me in its moment of fluidity.

In what I like to think of as an attempt to execute a beautiful and graceful backward swan dive, the writer-dancer fell off her bouncy ball, bringing the keyboard desk tray with her, which promptly smashed her elbow and left her on the ground wincing in pain and cold, stark reality.

The crash was so loud it even brought my boyfriend running up the stairs from the middle of Call of Duty: Black Ops to see if I had died.

The dog came too, but he didn't do much other than sit on me.
....
....
....Yeah.

In Word Count News! I accomplished my modified goal yesterday - YAY!

But the story is not yet done.

Plus, I revised the first half in October (written for NaNo 2008) and ended up with only 25k, so I still have 5,000 more to make the whole 50.

THUS! New goal: 25,000

And off we go to write to the soundtrack of gunfire and geeks. (Jifo's playing COD with his co-workers online again.)

The Skinny B Club

Why am I sneezing?

Because I'm wearing jeans I pulled from storage that I stopped fitting into 3 years ago.

yes that's a DJ Hero tank top

The Skinny:

As you know, I used to be a skinny little actor and dancer. I ate like a cow and exercised only sporadically (when I wasn't dancing) due to repetitive injuries on my joints. Apparently, that metabolism doesn't stay with women our whole lives...who knew...

The second I left the entertainment industry and started grad school + a corporate job, I gained like nobody's business.

Okay, maybe not the second. I was still thinny-thin for about a year before the desk job and bad vegan nutrition (stupid hippie grad school) caught up to me. But it felt like one day I just stopped fitting into any of my pants and I had to buy a whole new wardrobe.

I started developing an intense body image issue. There was literally a voice in my head that said non-stop "You're so fat." I knew I wasn't so fat, but my old Hollywood-era photos begged to differ.

I berated myself all day long, every day for THREE YEARS.

I started to hate my photos. Seemed I couldn't take a single shot without a double chin. I kept a roomful of all these cute pants I bought 5 years ago because I couldn't bear to accept my weight gain.

What finally drove me over the edge was my former best friend. She gave me a really good parting gift - she lost a ton of weight really quickly.

Now don't front like you don't compare yourself to your galpals! There's nothing more motivating than seeing your bff of 10 years become the skinny bitch you used to be. (And that her ex called me fat, but that's another story of why some men are a-holes. He literally asked me if I was pregnant once.)

So I started the Skinny Bitch Club. Me and 2 co-workers who could make a Benetton ad (the chinky me, the BKG = Big Korean Girl, and the one black chick at my Asian company) decided that we too wanted the ultimate compliment:

To be hated for being skinny.

I almost can't believe it actually worked, and my sense of willpower since turning 30 has amazed me.

Today I pulled out all the pants that I threw into our dusty storage room and tried them on. I fit into all of them. I repeat: pants that I outgrew THREE YEARS AGO fit again. I was so excited I actually called Jifo at work.

So I'm writing this - possibly my most obnoxious post ever - to invite my bloggy pals to join the Skinny Bitch Club. It's not instantaneous, but neither was the gain. And just like the day my pants felt too tight, one day - yesterday actually - I noticed that my work trousers were a little loose.

In the words of my guy friend who tried to boost my self-esteem:

"Does she look like a bitch because she's so skinny? Yes, she looks like a bitch."

You too, can look like a bitch. A skinny bitch.

Got a Skinny Bitch story to share? I will feature you!

**This post is dedicated to my former best friend, who I miss very much.**

11:11 on 11/11

a sweet image to get you into the good energy vibe

The hippies are out tonight!

1 has always been my favorite number, and repeating numbers are often significant symbols or powerful moments in time. Jifo and I have a cute little ritual we do at 11:11, but I won't embarrass us by detailing it.

Whether you pray, meditate, or just think happy thoughts, take 11 minutes at 11:11 tonight to revel in the positive energy being released around the nation today. Know that you are loved!

11 happiness points if you can name where the above photo was snapped!

And Like That She's Back

Aaaand Wanda's back.

Jifo gave his cousin 30 minutes, I thought he'd take him for 2 days. Wanda came back in 1 so we broke even I guess.

Ah emo kids. :P

BKG please take her...anytime now...

And Like That, She's Adopted

Heart-warming Overhead
Me: We found a stray.
Cousin: She's so cute!
Me: You want her?

Jifo's cousin came over to pick up the coveted Call of Duty: Black Ops and left with Wanda the stray in his arms and a starter bag of food.

I have to admit, I miss her flea-ridden butt. She was one of the most low-maintenance dogs you could hope to pick up off the street and for a few days I finally had a lapdog!

We bought her a pink collar that goes great with her gray mop fur.

Jifo's cousin texted us when he got home saying that his parents love her. I'm really happy for the kid, who's in grad school studying psychology. He's a former emo who's fallen in love. :)

After the door closed, Terry ran around the house and into the backyard looking for his new friend. Aw.

Now We All Have Fleas

I am never picking up strays again.

Thursday morning my dear coworker, we'll call her BKG for Big Korean Girl, was kind enough to drive me to our all-day work meeting (don't you want to work for OUR company?)

60 seconds on the road later she screeches, "Oh my gawd a dog! We have to stop!"

In my 'hood (Little Tijuana/Ghetto Asialand), there are strays on every corner. Jifo and I have stopped so many times we've given up - no dog has ever allowed us to get close to them before.

Except for this one.

My coworkers brings a shnau-pom looking thing with overgrown nails and bedraggled hair strewn with foxtails and leaf bits into the car. She's tame and has clearly had an owner.

We sit outside in 95 degree heat all day at the meeting at our boss' house so we could keep an eye on the dog. (Yes it's November and 95, hate us East Coast!)

At night I agree to take her home (how did I get stuck with the stray SHE picked up?) and I bathe her in (USELESS) flea shampoo, brush and frickin' blowdry her hair. It takes forever; the dirt just keeps streaming off her into my once-clean tub. I even cut out the knots and trim her eyebrows. Dang girls are high maintenance.

the exhausted stray

By tonight me, Jifo AND Terry - who we JUST de-flea'd - are itching like (NaNoWri)Mofos. I have 7 9 bites all over my torso, including on my boob.

And she might have worms.

Terry and his new girlfriend, who kind of hates him

We're going to bring her to the shelter/vet tomorrow to see if she's microchipped.