I don’t have time to formulate a decent blog post tonight because Clay is forcing me to do P90X with him and in the likely event that I will die during the workout, I figured that it would only be appropriate for today’s post to be more Courtney Confessions. (Do people like reading these as much as I like writing them?)
- Speaking of suffering from cardiac arrest during P90X, I’ve recently learned that I’m really not that in that great of shape (as I've mentioned in a previous Confessions post). Sure, I can be fully prepared to run a half marathon in only a few weeks, but jumping around my living room with a set of 5lb free weights exhausts me in a way that makes me feel feeble and broken. For instance, just last week I started swearing like a sailor when I forced myself to do a 1-minute wall sit and all but crumbled to the floor when I was finished. I’ve already promised myself that I will create more intense, dynamic cross-training routines after the upcoming One America 500 Festival Mini.
- I’m already planning my next tattoo. I love my little foot tattoo so much it’s inspired me to consider getting more in the future. And you know what else inspired me to mull over more ink? Right after I got my first tat a friend’s immediate reaction was, “You don’t seem like the kind of person who would ever have a tattoo.” Nothing fuels my fire more than being told something is out of character for me (unless I punched an elderly person in the face because yes, then that would be wildly out of character for me). Call me stubborn, but if even I don’t completely know what kind of person I am yet, I’ll be darned if someone else thinks they know!
- I serenaded Clayton with the theme song from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air the other night before bed, and I'm not sure which was larger—his level or annoyance of the amount of pride I felt because I still remembered all the words!
- Some jerk I went to high school with tried to pick a fight with me on my Facebook wall today. Essentially, I posed a question in my status update asking if anyone else was worried about what’s going to happen on tonight’s episode of Glee, (the show left us with a rather large cliffhanger), and this wretched boy who clearly wasn’t loved enough by his mother decided to use my status as the perfect opportunity to tell me and the entire internet that anyone who watches TV lives a sad, unfilled life. Naturally, I took great offense to that statement and reminded this “friend” that he was speaking in wild generalizations and is making a ridiculously vague judgment that if you watch any TV at all, you’re a completely pathetic airhead. I reminded this “friend” that I have an extremely fulfilling, wonderful life that is chock full of amazing experiences and activities that have nothing to do with my television set. The the fact that I like to unwind for a little bit each night and get lost in the fantasy of a silly TV show is my prerogative and doesn’t make me any less of a smart, capable person. And of course, as these types of situations are wont to do, some of my other friends came to my rescue, tossing in their two cents and allowing this guy to inevitably snowball his angst into a much larger fight than necessary. I ended up deleting the comments thread in its entirety because I don’t condone negativity or stupidity on my Facebook wall, and I wasn’t going to continue to engage in petty drama with someone who was being hateful just to be hateful. The lesson here? If you want to stay in my good graces, talk to me like a grown up. If you have an issue with me or something I said, come talk to me in private and share what’s on your mind. Don’t splash it around in the public sphere because you’re looking to start something.
But, like my favorite meme on the internet says, "Haters gonna hate."
- The above experience also taught me that confrontation makes me … sweaty. Like really, super sweaty. But then again, what doesn't?
- And finally, today's Facebook fiasco also made me realize that a lot of people have my back. I know it might sound funny, but for so many months (and years even), I've felt kind of alone outside of my family and a very few select friends. Leave it to me to take something as insignificant as an internet war to make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. I'm so lame.