Shannon Dohrety Just Ruined My Blog

Shannon Dohrety's soon to be released auto-biography is called Becoming A Badass.

Upon hearing this news I think Shannon and I do have quite a bit in common. I want to binge drink and hit a bitch too.

Jessica Fierce

Since I was feeling a little homely last night, I've decided to spend this morning wearing heels and creating my own ultra-ego. Beyonce says she has an alter-ego named Sasha Fierce. That's the side of her that gets on stage and shakes it. I'm still thinking of names for my ultra-ego. I'm going ultra instead of alter cause in everyday life I like to shake it.

possible name choices so far: Jessica Rabbit
Zsa Zsa
Dang. This is hard.

Listen people, I'm going for something fierce, fun, and not strippery. Suggestions?

Ok. I'm gonna go do my hair and practice dancing in heels. It be a shame if an emergency dance situation came up and I couldn't shake it just because of my shoes. Practice is important.

Uh-oh! I'm a badass

Yep, I'm a badass and it ain't pretty. I just hung out with people in my work cloths. I introduced myself to new people wearing all black, capris, and clogs. While in the bathroom, I looked in the mirror and saw a girl who doesn't care about her hair, back in a bun with loose, unkempt strands. A girl whose face wasn't that important. The features were nice and bright, but without make up the whole thing was slightly blurry. All I wanted to talk to people about was mountain biking and skiing. Possibly, we could dash in some travel plans. I was content.

The general mass of people are becoming less important to me. "I never see you anymore!"

I'm lost in the woods. It's lonely and I miss you, but I'm too happy to bother finding my way out.



P.S. Shaun, I know you never read my blog but I really miss you.

Why does the hard road hurt so good?

At cocktail hour a few days ago, with a dear budding badass friend of mine, after talk of jobs and boys and gossip, the conversation took a sudden turn to biking. I've just had my hiney kicked by the flu. Not just damaged, but ravaged. Physical activity became a beautiful mirage, shimmering through a haze of sickness. In my delirium, I reverted back to my weakling self literally crying for help and healing. There was no help to be had and the healing was coming. It was apparently stuck in LA traffic, decided to get a burrito, got mugged outside a taco stand, taken to the hospital, had to heal itself... what I'm saying is, it took for fucking ever. The only thing that got me through was a pair of 5 inch peep-toe wedges that I imagined coordinating with outfits. Now I have a pair of absolutely unwearable shoes coming to me from stevemadden.com, but I didn't kill anyone and I'm still in a relationship with my lovely boyfriend. I say, money well spent.

Anyway, back to biking. My friend asked, why do you love biking so much? She wants to try mountain biking. I kind of stuttered out some phrases. It's really fun. Well, it does hurt a lot. It's such a great work out. So much so that it's almost exhausted my heart. Every good was mirrored back with intense struggle and pain. Luckily, she took up the conversation. This girl from NYC understands my gospel. She knows how good it feels to do something you never thought you could do. She said, "I want to do it and that is all it takes. Wanting to do it."

I encouraged her but in my heart I was flailing. Why do I bike? I'm covered in bruises and cuts. I'm not physically strong enough to be good at it. Why do I continue to try to share my life with someone else? I'm full of insecurities. When I'm with someone, they all tend to come out. Fear of being left. Fear of not being pretty enough, successful enough, nice enough, a good enough cook, clean enough, smart enough, funny enough. Why do I keep writing? Often no one comments. I'm plagued by spelling errors. I don't understand commas. I never leave enough time to proof read. Why do I even leave the house? Half the time people have to pluck random food off my clothing.

I don't know why. Just got back on my bike for my first post flu ride. I went easy on myself. Took a simple trail that I never take. It was kinda fun. I only tipped over once. No bleeding. No bruises. It was kinda boring though.

Perhaps, I know life is going to kill me eventually and I just want to be the strongest most accomplished me I can be when I go.






If anyone knows of a pain free way to live and still progress please leave it in the comments section of this blog. I'm still recovering from the flu.

shout out

To those great people who are super happy while fulfilling a service they could be bummed about. I'm talking to you, chipper grocery check out people. You make my day better. You make me want to be a better waitress. You make the whole world shinier. Thanks.

This is your day. Better enjoy it.

ps. Late night Mc Donald's dude with the tude. Either get a new job, or start having fun with that headset. Don't tread on my good time with fries. And start realizing that I'm the best looking thing you're going to see at midnight. Jeez.

Weakness

I hate it when no one comments on my blog. Even if I still get facebook and verbal comments, I feel a hole in my being. I'm not impermiable, but I am more of a badass each day. My new muscles are covered in welts. My old heart still wants confirmation. That's how it goes.

I Hit a Tree

I started writing because my thoughts were so loud and distinct. Organizing them into stories was a way to control them, make them useful, funny, instead of tormenting. My mind has become quieter and more action oriented, equaling a a cut back in the writing.

Yesterday, the thoughts started up again. I was composing a story in my head as I biked about how only you know what is right for you. No one else can tell you what you are feeling, physically or emotionally. There is so much pushing, to be better, faster, stronger. I will be all of those things, but I can't just be those things because someone tells me to be. To the girl at the bike store: I got the beginner shoes because I'm beginning. So, to answer your question, "Are you walking or are you biking?" I'm doing both, thank you. And to the dude with the hearing aid that told me I was never going to pass him in the granny gear: My heart rate is at 90% capacity, even in the granny gear. I may need to use the dead and buried gear for some of the hills. Just keep walking your dog and if my biking bothers you, turn down the hearing aid and close your eyes. While crafting my witisisms and searching for the thread that would link all of my thoughts into an inspirational tale, I hit a rock, lost control and slammed my bike and body into a tree.

I'm covered in welts, but no serious injuries. The new moral to the story is, stop thinking about the story and focus on whatever your doing so you don't slam into a tree.