It takes a certain amount of make-up and photoshop to look as good as I do

"I'm not a natural beauty by a long shot. It takes a certain amount of make-up and photoshop to look as good as I do." ~ Me

 As you can see by the photo of me at 11 years old, I was far from pretty. I looked like a miniature version of my dad - with a LOT more hair. The only cute thing about this picture is my baby brother. I don't know what my mom was thinking, feathering my hair like she did, but  I hated this family portrait growing up and cringed every time I saw it. It haunted me my into my young adult life and I could have sworn I destroyed all copies of it when my parents weren't looking. Unfortunately, it seems my youngest brother kept one. Lucky me. 


Growing up, if a boy liked me, it was because I grew on them - I was the personality girl. I still am. I remember having such a big crush on this boy I played Dungeons & Dragons with as a kid and just when it seemed I had grown on him enough to like me back, a new, super cute girl moved into our neighborhood and his attention was stolen right out from under me. She was tall, lean, tan and had this cute button nose and straight, un-frizzy hair. She also wore destroyed jeans before they became popular - mimicking a style late 80s British pop star, and page three girl, Samantha Fox pioneered. What boy wouldn't choose 'hot' over a D&D geek who still wore bell bottoms 10 years after they went out of style? Thanks, mom.


New girl and I eventually became friends because we were the only two same-age girls on the block. Hanging out with her, I learned some of the finer points of being a chick, like how to use heated appliances and canned aerosol to fix my hair, how to shave my legs and that wearing bright blue eye shadow and hooker red lips were necessary to look pretty. I wish I could remember her last name because I want to stalk her on Facebook. I'm curious to know if she realized  faster than I did that unless you're a glam rock musician or an 80 year old European woman, bright blue eye shadow looks good on no one.  Plus, I secretly want her to have grown out of her looks with age. Kidding. Not really. 


Okay, maybe I do just a little.




I'm a lot older than that now and I've grown into my Italian features and my own style that changes depending on my mood. It's not a perfectly pretty look, but I can't afford to buy another one so I make do with what I have - which is mostly personality. I've never had the perfect body or face, but I've learned to fake it pretty well with the careful application of make-up, creative hair-styling techniques and interesting wardrobe choices. I say interesting because sometimes it's a miss.


Which brings me to the point of this.



There have been a few chicks who have asked me how I got into shape after having my daughter and a lot of moms want to know what I did to get rid of my stretch marks and what I'm using for wrinkle control. While a small portion of it is genetics and a larger bit is exercise and diet, the rest is having a great photographer and a minimal amount of photoshop.  


The genetics part is the wrinkle control. In the past, I've experimented with different creams and home remedies like avocado and olive oil masks and miracle whip exfoliation. Store bought creams are only putting more chemicals on my face, so I decided to save my money. Currently, I use soap and water to cleanse and coconut oil on my face at night. 


For everything else, there's photoshop.

Digital surgery has allowed me to fix things like my crooked nose, muffin top and stretch marks. I'm not saying I am unattractive without it, but the truth is, it makes me look fabulous online. Well, that and having a great photographer.


And in this day and age of cyber-narcissism, who doesn't want to look good online? 


Not all my photos are 'shopped.' But I am shameless when it comes to enhancing and optimizing my online image. With features like liquify, which works like liposuction, a clone tool and a skin softening filter, I can look like a better version of me without having to do any of the real work. It's a lot of work to pretend to look as good as I don't.

So, there you have it. Online, I'm just a big fake. 

In real life, though, I crossfit and try to eat right. But I still have issues with not being able to get back to the shape I was in when I was in my early 20s. In my 20s, I would obsess over it and hide in super large clothing. But now that I'm older, I have learned to embrace what I have and support the right to use Spanx to mold myself into my clothes. 


So, there ya have it, folks. I'm kind of a big fake.

Chick Norris App: A not so great idea that I like

I downloaded the Army of Darkness app with some of my fave quotes from the movie that I can never remember. I must have played with it for a half hour trying to figure out how to turn them into ringtones. Then I had the most awesome idea ever: the Chick Norris app. It would sport the NunChicks artwork and inside would be a montage of my signature expressions and faces to illustrate some of my more frequently used phrases:



Seriously??


Really.


I'm a total font whore.


Doing it Terminator style.



Good luck with that.


If you're asking me the question, you already know the answer.



Get it.


Because I said so.


Yes, I'm like rocket science.

Listen up knuckleheads. See this? This is my graphics TABLET!



Don't be a douche.



Girly bits, naughty bits ...sexy bitch.

I don't do domesticated s**t.


Chick Norris ... like Chuck Norris, minus the excessive body hair.

Nunchicks. Deadlier than nunchucks.




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Memorial WODs: You really can’t quit

So, the boyfriend has started the “leave body” fitness program. That’s when he hits the gym several weeks before he takes leave to look great going home - for the ladies. But I digress.

Anyway, anyway, we were talking about working out today and he tells me he came up with a Memorial WOD for a guy on his team who died earlier this year. He was pretty excited about it.

“No one wants to do it, though, because it’s too hard.”

I’ll do it, muffin, tell me what we’re working with.

Turns out, we were going to be working superhero-style - way more than I was used to.

1000m row

10 HSPU

20 Box jumps

40 Pull Ups

50 WB

70 Push Ups (I hope I interpreted that right)

90 Thrusters

1000m row

That doesn’t sound so bad (translated: famous last words, every time I've underestimated a workout, I've had my ass handed to me).

So, is that for time or can I take my time?

“For time.”

When I left work tonight, I was just going to go for a two-mile run and go home. I ended up at the crossfit gym so I could knock this out. For time. I’ve killed my body over lesser reasons, so having a “cause” was motivating. I've since met the family of the Soldier and it meant more than just a workout for me. Plus, it’s also kind of neat to share something with the boyfriend.

Thankfully, the gym was not that crowded. If there’s one thing that intimidates me, it’s working out in front of other people – by myself. But if I can make random karaoke youtube videos and share them on the interwebs … well, I don’t really have an excuse anymore.

Starting with the row, after about the first 400m, my arms started to protest and my elbows tried to lock. See, I don’t think I’ve done a row except to warm up and it’s pretty easy when you only do it for about two minutes. A thousand meters felt like forever and my arms were numb after. I pushed the handstand push ups after the box jumps. But not before attempting to sub regular push ups so I felt like I was following the workout.

My arms gave out and I plank-smacked my entire body into the floor.

Box jumps are not my favorite, but I have pretty strong legs and powered through those at a decent pace. I don’t understand how the others at the gym can do them so fast, they can’t possibly – actually, I can see they are not opening their hips at the top. Maybe that’s easier. So, about midway, I decided to try to do them as fast as I could. Third one in, my jump was a little shy of the top, my toes caught the edge and almost took out my knee caps when they hit the box. I defaulted back to the correct form I was taught by Master Phil. Screw how everyone else does them.

This is where I really wanted to quit. It’s not like anyone would know, right? I could make up a time and say I did it. Or claim injury. But I couldn’t, I was committed. 

Limping right along …

Handstand pushups are harder than you think. But for whatever reason, I was able to do all ten without falling on my face and breaking my neck. I’m wondering if I did them right. I decided it didn’t matter since I was done with them.

I was doing most of this in the back room at the gym, but for the pull-ups, I needed to go out to the bar. I can’t reach the bar on my own, not even with jumping. So, anytime I’ve done a WOD that includes pull ups, I have to make myself a booster which consists of a 24 inch box and two 10 pound plates – and I still hop. It’s only slightly embarrassing, but not as much as watching me actually do a pull-up. After 40 of those, I decided to swap out the pushups for back squats or I wasn’t going to be able to make it through the wall balls.

One thing I am most proud of is how strong my legs are. However, 70 back squats at 55# set my thighs and ass on fire. So, I pushed the wall balls back to do the thrusters first.

Bar only at 45# after the first 20.

Yes, I took a 20 second break after every 20 thrusters. At this point, I was afraid my arms would give out and I’d drop the bar on my head. Safety first.

Finally, I was on the last exercise – 50 wall balls. The first 25, surprisingly, went smooth. I had hit a zone and was knocking them out. Until I missed a beat in the song I was listening to, caught the ball wrong, and all eight pounds smacked me in the face. I wanted to punch someone and pee at the same time - it hurt. I’ll probably have a black eye. I made it through the next 25 and finished out another 1000m row.

Total time: just proud I finished it.

Kidding, I did it in 59:35.

Maybe there are those who can do it faster, but I’m not about wrecking myself (on purpose) to keep up. Right now, I’m sitting on the floor of the apartment. Not because I’m tired. As a matter of fact, I’m wide awake and hungry. I’d like to go to the kitchen and make some dinner. But I can't. My muscles have informed me that they expelled every bit of energy - plus my reserve - for my workout. So, I’ll probably just lay down right here and go to bed.

By the way: the boyfriend did it in, like, 19 minutes, so I heard. So, now I will try to do it again this weekend to see if I can shave 40 minutes off my time ...