5 Random Thoughts II

This was a fun conversation-starter post back in December so I’ve decided to do another round of Five Random Thoughts. If you guys like the weirdness, maybe I’ll make this a monthly occurrence on the blog?

How does Kylie Jenner live a fully functional life with those fingernails?!

I recently let my nails get super long. At first it was a byproduct of laziness but then I had a big event right around the corner so I figured I’d just keep them long so I could rock a next-level manicure at Boston Winter Ball. IT WAS DEBILITATING.

Typing? Forget about it. You can’t hit a key without also hitting every other motherfucking key around it. My backspace button literally has a hole in it now from overuse. The only option for getting around this handicap is to type with the tip of the fingernails. To do this, you have to meerkat your hand position (yes, I’m using meerkat as a verb, and yes I’ve provided a picture for visual reference) and then locate your nearest pair of earplugs because it will sound like said meerkat is noisily tap dancing on your keyboard. Everyone around you will hate you. 

And don’t even get me started on the safety hazard of putting in my contacts each morning. I felt like Edward Scissorhands trying to coax the lenses out of the case with the fleshy part of the side of my pinky finger so as not to slice them in half and then fourteen hours later when I actually got the damn thing on my finger I’d say the Lord’s prayer as I brought it to my eyeball precariously balanced next to my Wolverine claws.

Yet Kylie Jenner’s acrylic nails are never less than four inches long. How. Does. She. Live.

I have never spelled “amateur” correctly on my first try.

Sometimes I butcher it so badly that spellcheck doesn’t even have a suggestion for me. It’s just like “sorry, girl, you’re hopeless.” Granted I’m a fairly poor speller in general, but “amateur” is just particularly impossible. My nephews (well, technically Joe’s nephews but whatever I like to pretend because I’m creepy like that) are 8 and 9 years old and they said that spelling isn’t really even taught or emphasized in school anymore because of computers, which I actually love. (Says the girl who can’t spell to save her life.) Amateur, amature, amachure, amateure–instead of correcting me how about congratulating me on my highly developed level of creativity?!

I think I like editing outtakes better than my actual videos.

Every couple months, I go through my computer deleting pictures/videos I don’t need and transferring the rest to an external hard drive to free up space. While sorting through all the raw video footage I’ve amassed since venturing into the world of YouTube, I decided to put together a quick outtake/blooper reel for the channel.

Waaaay more fun than editing the actual workout videos haha. This one is more cutesy than funny, but if my YouTube subscribers seem to like it then maybe I’ll do another with all the meltdowns and f-bombs. 😉

VH1 peaked in 2008.

Am I aging myself with this one? I think as far as reality tv goes, Bravo is really having a moment, but humor me and reminisce (<–another word I never spell correctly) on VH1’s programming from like 2006-2009. Straight fire. You had Rock of Love–and what’s not to love about Brett Michaels mispronouncing “diabetes” 700 times an episode?! Then there was Flavor of Love which birthed I Love New York, and God bless Tiffany “New York” Pollard for showing us all that clear bra straps are not, in fact, invisible.  

For the record, New York is one of my top five reality tv starts of all time and I will fight you on that if you disagree. She’s a national treasure, dammit.

And then as if those three shows weren’t glorious enough, they combined the best of the best from them into Charm School and I Love Money. I mean the spinoffs were endless and my college years were better for it.

I think I’m finally ready to embrace Instagram stories.

When IG stories first came out, I was annoyed and adamantly Team Snapchat. How dare you, Insta! I think we can all agree that while imitation may be the most sincerest form of flattery, it’s also the most annoying. And who has time for two Snapchats? I can barely remember to update one. I’ve been refusing to use Insta stories for months but the numbers don’t lie. Snap views are way down, Insta views are way up, and from a business standpoint, I really should focus on IG stories. NoooOOOoooOOoOo. I remember when emojis first came out, I thought they were the dumbest things ever. Now I feel like I can’t fully express myself without them. So hopefully IG stories is the same way and a month from now I’ll be obsessed. TBD.

Wow did we all just get a little bit dumber reading this blog post? Perhaps.

IG Stories vs SnapChat–which team are you?

Favorite VH1 reality tv star from the glory days?

Long fingernails: yay or hell to the nay?

What word/s can you not spell to save your life?

Five Random Thoughts

five-random-thoughts-decemberEmphasis on RANDOM. This blog post has absolutely nothing to do with anything. Not sure if I should say, “Enjoy!” or “May the odds be ever in your favor”…

As a kid, I thought every movie was filmed like Boyhood.

Growing up, I thought that one actor played a character in a movie, regardless of age changes throughout the storyline. So if a movie included flashbacks to a character’s childhood, I thought the film crew had to shoot those scenes when the actor was a kid and then wait 20 years to film the rest of the movie when the actor was an adult (super practical and efficient). I remember being in awe of movies that flash-backed to when an adult character was a baby–what commitment! And: How’d they know the baby would want to act when it grew up?!

I don’t know at what age I finally figured out that it was two different people playing the same character, but it blew my mind. I then immediately felt like a complete idiot.

Would you rather have your text messages made public or your phone’s camera roll?

Ohgodohgodohgod. At first it seems like a no-brainer: Hell no am I letting my texts go public. But … those selfies. You know those days when your outfit is straight fire and you nailed your eyeliner and you are just FEELING YOURSELF and have to snap a selfie or two … hundred. And the result is 10,000 versions of the same pose with just sliiiiight variations (angry RBF, less-angry RBF, smize hard, smize harder, slight chin tilt up, slight shin tilt down) and you’re just trying way too hard in all of them, and you have enough shame not to post them to social media but also enough narcissism not to delete them … yeah those can’t see the light of day.

Then again, who knows what’s buried in the archives of my text messages.

Publish the damn selfies.

I need to figure out a way to be tan without real tanning or spray tanning.

img_6074I love having a tan. My body looks leaner and more defined, my face looks clearer and less blemished, and I can finally use the #tangoals emoji skin-hair combo. (I mean that’s what life’s all about am I right or amiright?!) Tanning beds are absolutely not an option, but I’ve always hated spray tanning. It smells weird, it stains white sheets and clothes, and when I sweat during workouts or teaching, it runs everywhere and I end up looking like I’m covered in dirt streaks. It’s a total mess. If anyone has some product recommendations or other tips for getting a faux glow, holler at me!

I don’t understand people who listen to music while the television volume is also on.

You know that part in A Clockwork Orange where his eyes are being held open and he’s strapped into a chair being forced to watch traumatizing video footage as part of the aversion therapy? I relate to him on a very deep level when I’m sitting in a room with the TV on and someone starts playing music. The walls start closing in, my palms get sweaty, the noise seems to get louder and louder, I can’t concentrate on anything–it’s maddening! I won’t even watch a damn Snapchat story with volume if someone in the same zip code is watching television.

Aaaaand then there’s Joe.

Music blasting in the apartment, turns on the TV, and then starts watching a loud YouTube video on his iPhone. WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK. It causes me to panic. I frantically search for the remote control and beat the living shit out of that mute button, trying urgently to dismantle the bomb that’s about to explode in my brain. And then we both just sort of stare at each other as if the other is insane. Good times, good times.

Are Mike Pence and Bart Bass the same person?

Every time Mike Pence is on the television, I get a fleeting rush of excitement thinking Gossip Girl reruns are on. Chuck Bass’ dad? Is that you!? Am I losing my mind or are these two men the same person:bart-bass-mike-pence

And there you have it. The most useless blog post you’ll read all day.

Your turn:

  • Texts or camera roll made public?
  • What weird misconceptions did you have as a kid?
  • Any faux tanning advice for someone who sweats for a living?

Happy Friday! I’ll be back to the health-related content next week. Thanks for indulging this ramble. 😉

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