As Promised: Weekend Festivities, Part 1

Success! Beautiful, blissful, drama-free success! The weekend was altogether fantastic. The reactions I was so craving were all delivered one by one. I saw Rico first and I believe it's safe to say he didn't know what to do with himself when I stepped out of my car. He continued to tell me how fabulous I looked throughout the remainder of the weekend. In anything that I put on, every fantastic outfit purchased prior to said weekend, he just couldn't get over how good I looked. ha. I loved it. Not gonna lie. If that wasn't motivation enough to continue working, more would follow...

On Friday night, it was a simple night of beer and basketball. Being March Madness and all, I was perfectly happy with relaxing with the boys for the evening. Always makes for good conversation. Rico and a couple of his fraternity brothers started talking about their sweetheart. The humor in this for me is that their sweetheart is Bitch numero uno when it comes to giving me hell. The conversation progresses to them asking me to return for pledging season next year with the title of their Sweetheart 2.0. ha! Although, I knew it was ridiculous for them to even suggest, the ego was more than a little boosted to find that they enjoyed my company so much. If they only knew how sweet I could be... I've learned from the best: IG, being the Sweetheart of our brother fraternity in school. It made me smile to say the least.

Saturday was the day of Round 1. Ring the bell, I'm going in to fight. My stomach was in absolute chaos. Knots of anxiety and stress. It was terrible. I dreaded it all morning. As stated previously, I build everything up in my head to be far worse than it actually is. I walk into the church feeling as if my entire sorority hates me when I know that it's only a couple of bitches continuing to talk shit because they have nothing better to do with their time. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't look fabulous. I told you, give them something to hate on if they feel the need to keep hating. My dress was a clearance steal from White House, Black Market and one sister in particular gushed over it the entire time, telling me how flattering it was and beautiful it was, could she have it... etc. I especially enjoyed these comments being made in front of the bitches. The bitches who, when seeing me for the first time try to pass for excited to see me. "Hey Classy! How are you?!".... please. I said a simple, "Hello" and turned around. I don't have time for the fake bs anymore. While I understand they're still in the non-confrontational and altogether immature mindset, I don't have to be. As Ms. Spears says...

"I don't like you, you don't like me, it don't matter. The only difference is you still listen, I don't have to. In one ear and out the other, I don't need you. Your words don't stick, I ain't perfect, but you ain't either."

Pretty perfect, don't you agree? In any case, I saw those that I wanted to see and that were happy to see me. I enjoyed conversation with old alumni and those that I had graduated with that I hadn't seen in a long time. And in the corner of my eye, you better believe, I could see the bitches talking and watching. Which is just exactly what I wanted them to be doing. I felt good.

After the wedding, I caught up with Rico again and let him know that I had survived and was actually happy with the outcome of the afternoon. I declined an invitation by a few of the sisters for dinner and party after the wedding. This also made me feel good. I am finally at a point where I can say 'No' and not care. I then was able to spend a few hours with one of my top favorite people of all times, my sociology advisor and favorite professor ever. It was so wonderful catching up and seeing her daughter that I once babysat. She's three and can spell her name. Being around three year olds all of the time now, I know that this is a big deal. She was beautiful. It was such a great night.

Round 2 would follow on Sunday. Before the duo-bridal shower, I went with Rico and one of his brothers to grab lunch and fresh flowers for the shower. As we sat in this particular restaurant, guess who pulls up and walks in. Indeed. The bitches. Perfect. ha. They walk in, they see us, they get their fake hello's ready, they get their food, and they leave. One of them has a terrible headache from the aforementioned party the night before. My question would be, "If you weren't planning on eating here, why didn't you just go through the drive thru?" Maybe it's me, I don't know. I laughed when they left that I just must be too intimidating. ha. It made my day. It's about time for them to change their plans for me instead of the other way around. They attended the shower, which by the way was beautiful, but didn't say a word to me. I was okay with this. I got plenty of "You look so happy and healthy!" and "You're so little!" and "Could you be my trainer?" in front of them, to last me for quite some time.

The bride of the wedding I'm going to be a part of in May, failed to mention anything about a difference in my appearance. This is not surprising. This being the same bride who ordered my dress in a size up from the size I asked her to. Not bitter. We'll see who needs what size come the end of May, won't we?

All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed my weekend. I had such a great time with Rico and catching up with those I'd been excited to see. The bitches held their position on the bitch scale, but to their dismay, I had a brand new attitude and a body that isn't done working but is quite a bit better than what it was, last they saw. I felt good and looked good. I was happy. And healthy. Even after my late night Taco Bell run... hey, we had to have at least one, right?

I know this is a long one, and you can't imagine why there would be a Part 2, but that's an entirely different rant in general. Stay tuned. Hope everyone had a fabulous weekend as well and that your Monday back in reality wasn't as severely depressing as mine. Happy Tuesday!

Ring the Alarm!

Time's up! Tomorrow's the big day... if I can make it until then. My insides are about to explode with nerves, anxiety, and excitement. I've made out my very extensive and thoroughly thought out to-do list for this evening along with my packing list. I'm trying to get all of my ducks in a row, so to speak, before tomorrow rolls around. I'm fairly certain I have never created such a packing list before. But as I've said previously, everything has to be perfect. I am bound and determined to not let the bitches get to me this time. You see, as much of a bad ass as I make myself sound here on occasion, I do end up in tears at least once every time I'm around them. But never in front of them. Fear not. They're just unbelievable for the most part. I've yet to figure out exactly what I ever did to make them hate me with the fury in which they do, but hey, nothing I can do about it now... Therefore, this time around, I'm feeling good about me, I'm excited about seeing those that I haven't seen in far too long, and basically, they can kiss my ass.

We'll see how far that attitude gets me. Hopefully through the entire weekend. If not, I'm sure you'll hear about it either way. I do believe, however that this go around, I have planned everything out to the simplest detail. I'm being the perfect party planner with the cutest favors ever... that were dirt cheap... I have the best gifts for this shower, even though I'd rather not give them to either of the brides-to-be as I'd prefer to not think of them laced about in lingerie. But that's not the point. The point is that they're cute, they're from me and I am Classy 2.0. ha. Once again, I've said, it certainly hasn't hurt to maintain such a full and confident attitude when I'm lighter on the scales and slimmer in the waist line. I still have quite a ways to go, but they won't know that until they see me again when these actual weddings take place this summer.

In any case, wish me luck. I know I've asked for it before, but as this week has been dragging ever so slowly along, my nerves and blood pressure have risen quite a bit. I'm looking forward to the positives. Mr. Perfect says, "The only things you HAVE to do in life are pay taxes and die, everything else is a WANT to." He tells me to screw obligation basically. This line of conversation always takes place when I tell him I have to be cordial to these catty bitches, or worse, hang out with them when other sisters are present. He hates them, by the way. But nevertheless, I will be at least attempting to follow such wise words. It's about time that I do what I want to do when I'm back in a place that I called home before they did. Another piece of advice he lends that I will most definitely be following and that I've shared with IG, "You've earned the right to be conceited..." Now, out of context, I look like the bitch here, but I've worked hard and I plan on showing that off. Who wouldn't? That's what I thought. My feelings are, they need a jolt back into reality in knowing that they aren't as high and mighty as they think they are... might be good for them to see that they've gained every ounce I've lost. ha! Okay, I'm done.

Hope everyone else enjoys their weekend. I know it's a bit early, but mine begins tomorrow night after work. Look forward to many a story upon my return! Keep your fingers crossed for the reactions I crave!

Classy 2.0

Okay, so clearly Kate Winslet is far more classy than I could ever hope to be, however, Classy 2.0 has since been the title given to me by one of my number one fans, Rico. He says it's like I'm simply trying to make myself  into a better version of me. Hence, 2.0. And I found that pretty clever and altogether accurate. He's pretty good about things like that. 

Today, was one of those days where I felt as a Classy 2.0. I weighed in upon leaving the gym this morning almost against my better judgement, but I found that I have since lost a total of sixteen pounds since January 1! Hooray! I'm thrilled. Mr. Perfect told one of the trainers there while I was doing one of my weight sets that I had lost around fifteen pounds (this was before the weigh in), and the trainer commented that he had noticed that I'd been so consistent, even coming in by myself at times, and that the number of pounds lost was pretty accurate and healthy for the amount of time I'd been at it. This made me feel twice as good when I stepped on the scale. Perfection. A little over the half way mark of my original goal! It has definitely lifted my spirits ten fold today. 

One of the reasons why I need my spirits lifted? Next weekend I get to co-host the aforementioned duo bridal shower back in the middle of Drama Central. My Alma mater. Among all of my sorority sisters, some I love, some have grown to be more caddy than when I left, and some were already high up on the bitch scale when I departed and I would rather not have to deal with them anymore. Or ever again. Alas, this is where I am on life's journey. Stuck with obligation. Again. I must say, however, that while a part of me dreads the trip based solely on two or three bitches I've discussed before, I am quite eager to see the look on some of their faces when Classy 2.0 enters the building. I've pretty much bought an entire new wardrobe for the occasion and have been working extra hard in the gym in preparation for the reaction I so hope for. 

Another reaction I'm looking forward to would be that of Mr. Rico, himself. As I haven't seen him in months, it will be quite entertaining to see what he thinks of this Classy 2.0 that he's only heard over the phone and has yet to see in person. A girl's gotta make an entrance you know. I live for the shock factor. You know, the surprise on every one's face. The giant smiles and "I'm so proud of you! 's" or the jealous eyes and the whispers behind my back... or even a jaw drop. I could go for that. I can't wait. 

As I'm staying with Rico for the weekend, it will give the bitches even more to discuss amongst their jealous selves. I'm sure I'll have plenty of stories for you upon my return, but until then fingers crossed that I receive the reaction so hoped for. If the haters gotta hate, you gotta give them something to hate on, right? ha. 

Happy Saturday, everyone! Hope your weather forecast is as beautiful as mine and you give the bitches something to talk about too! 

Save the Drama for your Momma

...Or are the mommas the drama? Sometimes I can confuse the two. While not quite as dramatic as Real Housewives of Orange County, the moms around these parts can cook up plenty of their own drama. All people can I guess. I'm just in the middle of the current motherly madness and I don't really care to be.

If you're unaware, I am currently in the middle of wedding mayhem. My college roommate and sorority sister is getting married in May, another friend that I grew up with in my hometown church is getting married the very same day, another sorority sister is getting married at the end of this month, and yet another is getting married in July. Unreal. The focus for this blog, however, is the first two. You guessed it, the same day in May brides... And we're just to the showers here, people.

I've already volunteered to co-host a shower for my roommate with the rest of our sorority back at my Alma mater and my mother has already volunteered to throw the other same day in May bride a shower with fellow church-goers as her mother is one of my mother's best friends. Still with me? Both brides are taken care of by Classy's family. Doesn't seem like an issue, no? It shouldn't be. The issue breaks loose when my mother asked another mother at the church who is also throwing my roommate a shower (did I mention we all went to the same church growing up?) if she would like to do a joint shower as no one had offered to throw one at that point in time for the second same day in May bride. The other mother's reply was a simple 'no, I think they need their own, thanks though. I'm already throwing her a Pampered Chef shower.' ..that no one had so much as hinted about to my mother or I. I swear mothers can be so caddy. Not to mention my roommate's mother, who has pretty much snubbed my mother for months now as if she's done something terribly offensive, still hasn't put her cold walls down. I told my mom to forget about it. It wasn't her responsibility to throw two showers and at least she had offered.

I got an email today asking if it was okay for my mom to put my name as a co-host for the shower being thrown for the second same day in May bride. She was just checking, making sure it wouldn't be offensive to the roommate. My response being, 'I'm already throwing her a shower, Bride #2 deserves one just as equally as Bride #1.' In my head I know this is what my roommate would agree to. Just in case, however, I asked her. She of course said, 'No I wouldn't be offended at all, you know that. What's important is that you'll be standing next to me on May .. and that's all I care about. Bride #2's mom has been making a bigger deal out of this same day stuff than I think necessary, but we'll talk about that later.' Seriously? More momma drama! Bride #1's mother, however, I can just see it now... Drama. She'll be offended at some point down the road that Mom-o-Classy threw a personal shower for Bride #2 and not Bride #1 who lived with her daughter for four years. Whatever. People worry too much. And they will always always always find something to bitch about. Something that someone did wrong or didn't do at all. In my opinion, they'll both get presents, they'll both have their ceremonies, and at the end of May, it'll all be said and done. Women take things so personally sometimes. I mean to an extent, I'll understand, but this wedding madness is getting ridiculous.

Maybe being young and un-wed has left me naive and inexperienced. I suppose I have some growing up to do, right? ha. Whatever.

Mr. Creepy McCreepster

Leave me alone! Seriously, can you not find other bars to scope out on my Saturday nights? I know there are plenty of innocent young women just waiting to attempt to give you a fake phone number after three rounds of free beverage and in turn be manipulated into giving you their real one. So how about you go find one of them to text and harass or perhaps, take your so called girlfriend out after work on Saturday nights instead of imposing on my enjoyable evenings out. Really, this is getting ridiculous. How many weekends in a row do I have to try and hide out in the corner of the bar when you stroll in? I know you think you're the shit, but news flash, you're not. In fact, you are pretty much a creep. By definition, reason #312 to have a legitimate fake number on hand and reason #2 to talk to the man buying you drinks before accepting three rounds and realizing they're slightly off balanced.

Thanks so much, 

Yours Never,

Classy.

Back story? Sure.  

Probably about a month ago, a girls' night out went wrong. Trying to replicate a girls' night in previous weeks, a city friend and I went to one of our favorite bars where we were sure one of our favorite bartenders would in fact be present supplying us with free beverage as he had in the aforementioned girls' night. Unfortunately, we sit at the bar for an hour with no sign of our bartender. Finishing our non-free beverages, we were almost ready to call it a night and simply put it in the loss bracket, when in strolls Mr. Creepy McCreepster. Acting as if he owns the place, he says, 'Hello' to all bartenders in attendance and several customers at the bar while simultaneously being supplied with his apparent 'usual'. As if we cared, he then strikes up conversation with the two new beautiful ladies to his left: Myself and my city friend. But hey, we came for the free drinks and he was apparently all too aware of that. 

Three rounds later, he's offered to assist my city friend with a job opportunity and asked for both of our phone numbers. As I tried to give him a fake, this was not his first carnival ride. He insisted that I call his phone so that he could save the right number. Unfortunately enough, city friend failed to take the hint that when I'm burning a hole in your forehead with my eyeballs, it means it's time to go! Indeed, he left with Classy's actual phone number. Tragic.

Flash-forward a week, Classy's co-teacher wants to hit up a bar that she's heard is fantastic. We go, mid-week, no big deal. Walk right into Mr. Creepy McCreepster's place of business. That's right, he's the asst. GM of said bar. Seriously? The good news: It was all free. The bad news: more harassment. Spectacular. Isn't this supposed to be a big city? 

It made for a good story, several off-hand sarcastic or crude comments about the man's insanity or all too desperate disposition, and quite a few laughs between Classy and friends... Until last Saturday night. Like sitting ducks, Classy, Roxie, Mr. Perfect, and other friends were enjoying a Saturday night on the town when guess who strolls in. Indeed. Not real. At first the man acts as if he didn't look me dead in my eyes when he walked in the door, but of course he couldn't leave it at that. He's Mr. Important, he had to let my entire party know that. Strolls over to Roxie and my table, puts his arm around me, introduces himself to my friends, calls me a 'heart breaker' (as if we didn't already know that much...) and offers to buy us a round as he's walking out the door. The waiter pretty much scoffs at his arrogance and we laugh as he invites us to meet up with him at his next destination. Yeah. right. And you guessed it, in the week following, more text messages. Desperate for me to return his need for conversation, he has mocked my relationship, mocked my strength and intellect, and absolutely and entirely misjudged this Classy Stiletto. What. a. freak. 

Last night was looking to be a better night. Psycho-free and drama free. In fact, I almost got out scott free entirely. Alas, almost doesn't count. Mr. Important strolls in once more. Stalker much? Luckily, we were just finishing our round and headed home. Zero opportunity for Dear Creepy to strike up a conversation other than awkward attempts of eye contact. Hilarious. Ridiculous. I've learned my lesson. And done. 

In conclusion, not only have a fake phone number on hand, but perhaps a can of pepper spray... and city friends who know when to say, 'Goodbye!' 

Not. real.

Don't Toy With My Emotions

No, Seriously. Let us review. This weekend, as you read previously, was fantastic. Not only was the company wonderful, but the weather, the food, the shopping... everything. But especially the weather. After a long day of spending too much money and fighting too many crowds, it was so lovely to come home and enjoy a beverage on the back porch, watching the sun set into the breezy, yet still warm, night sky. It. Was. Perfect. I was finally at peace. One of my favorite seasons was in full effect. Spring time. Temperatures in the 70s, sun shining in all of its glory, blue skies, cool winds,... the whole nine yards. Perfection. Up until Tuesday, when the high was 80 degrees here in the city, l was blissfully content.

Fast forward to this morning. Recall, two days ago, 80 degrees and sunny. This morning... 38 and sleeting as I drive to work. What. the. Hell?

My sentiments exactly! As I sit here, watching the snow fall outside of my window at work, this picture perfectly sums up my emotions. I can understand rain in the Spring. This was in the forecast for the rest of the week, that's fine. Rain and 50s, fine. Rain, sleet, snow, and temperatures in the 30s? Seriously? No words can explain the irritation. I should've known, I suppose. I have an album of pictures from last spring entitled "When Your Spring Time is Bi-Polar." So, I suppose that this was the case last year as well, but I simply cannot recall sunshine and 80 degree weather back to back with sleet and 30 degree weather. Not. Okay. At. All!

In conclusion, all that I ask oh City Weather is to please, please, for the love of all that is good, stop toying with my emotions! It's simply not humorous. Not in the least.

Wouldn't It Be Lovely?

First, I'm sorry I've been such a slacker. Last week went by as a blur of sorts. I'm not sure how, as each day seemed to creep by... however, here we are and I don't really have any excuses for my lack of blogging. My apologies.

Second, I'm feeling better. Thank you for your comments and encouraging words. I have my days when it simply sucks to be in my shoes... and then I get real with myself again and move forward... or get into a new pair of shoes. Which ever the case may be, I'm now focused more on the positive comments I've received in the past week, such as both of my higher ups complimenting my "getting skinny-ness." I'm now focused more on the fact that my staple black belt that I've owned for the better part of college, etc. no longer works as it is too big around to hold up my now too big jeans. I'm now focused on the fact that my shopping extravaganza this week provided opportunity to purchase size smaller clothing items that all fit as they should and it's not just me trying to squeeze myself into them. I'm seeing my glass as half full as opposed to half empty. This is where my head should be at this point, right? I hope. We'll just put it this way... my diet, along with my bank account, has suffered immensely this weekend, and I haven't worried about it. Tonight's gym experience, I'll worry about. It's going to kick my ass back in gear, but one comment on my last post was that it was in fact a healthy way to re boost your metabolism when it starts to slow down again. Thank you for that. Thus, I don't feel too guilty... ha. Trying not to anyway.

Speaking of my shopping extravaganza and my poor bank account, whoa did I go overboard this weekend. Thus my picture. Wouldn't it be oh so lovely if the money you spent recreated itself on your own personal money tree? I so wish it did. My favorite Roxie finally made her first trip to the city this weekend. Thank God it was so soon after a pay period because I have spent more money shopping, dining and drinking than I believe I ever have in a weekend's time. One could say I'm celebrating my lack of Spring Break. First year ever not having one... I feel like I've treated myself to my own little spring time siesta. Relaxing, staying up too late, shopping, shopping, eating terribly, enjoying this fabulous spring weather, shopping, drinking, shopping. You get the picture. Happy Spring Break to Classy. I've practically bought myself a new spring wardrobe as I have events to prepare for (as mentioned previously). Seeing people I love and bitches who need to hate on me more than they already do apparently. Roxie said this would in fact be the case when I was having my own little fashion show last night with all of my purchases strewn about my room. It's going to be a good weekend at the end of the month. Stay tuned. Should be quite exciting.

In any case, my mood has improved greatly since last we spoke. Roxie provided a breath of fresh air as usual and my spirits have been lifted. A new wardrobe always helps with that too you know. The gym awaits me this evening. No more cheating before my thrilling end of March weekend arrives. Kicking it in gear one more time and staying focused on the good... not the scales. Happy Spring Break!

Help! I'm Stuck!

Scales were sent from the Devil. Of this, I'm convinced. I worked out four days last week. Hard. I'm pushing myself to an extra extreme at this point because of certain events coming up shortly and certain people I'll be spending time with preceding the wedding festivities in May. I've set more short term goals, even though the long term goals are sneaking up on me quickly. In any case, I have been stuck on the same approximate numbers now for two + weeks. And this is not okay. Mr. Perfect asks why I can't just be satisfied with being in the best shape I've probably ever been in. My co-worker and friend tells me over and over again, "stay off the scales, they're just discouraging. You know you're working hard and it's paying off." My heart understands this, but my instinct is to just see if the needle has moved a simple pound or so... it can't be that difficult, right? Wrong.

I had a brief conversation with I.G. yesterday, begging for guidance, for encouragement, for anything. I'm so fed up with working so hard to no avail. It's enormously frustrating. I mean really, no wonder people allow themselves to get fat! Not only is it a chore to watch what you eat, but you also need to fit in a fair amount (or more) of exercise and BONUS, when your body becomes tired of that routine, you have to change it up again simply to continue to lose. What is that? One might try to tell me that the results will continue to drive me. It'll all make sense when you feel fabulous in the end, right? Well as of now, I've been working my ass off for two solid months and I haven't seen any further results than what I saw at a month and a half. If this is the case for much longer, when on earth am I supposed to feel fabulous?

Yes, I can tell that I've lost. Yes, I feel like I'm in much better shape than when I started. Yes, I'm able to run further or lift longer. Yes, I can feel my body strengthening. No, I'm not where I thought I would be at this point, nor where I want to be and no, I'm not okay with going another month with nothing on the scales amusing my efforts!

After a fantastic time at home last weekend, I felt so encouraged and motivated by my girls. I was thrilled to get back in the gym with a breath of fresh air. And this weekend, I felt like I had plummeted into a hole that I can't crawl out of. I'm stuck! I was quite the cranky bitch yesterday as I couldn't break free of this mindset. I.G. assured me that my body would work its way through it and the next twenty pounds would fall off. I hope that's the case. But it was/is quite difficult for me to come to terms with that today. When you start working out and feeling good, it's so easy to say "Why haven't I been doing this all along?" until you reach this point and it's like "Now I understand why everyone gives up about two months into their 'New Years Resolution' and goes back to the hot wings and cold beverages." I'm not saying I'm giving up. I've come too far for that. I'm just admitting that I can certainly see why people do. I'm so irritated. Maybe I should just throw out the scales for a while... could I really do that? Add that to the list of what my will power is up against lately. God help me.