Fuck my Fitbit... Judgmental bitch.

I have a love/hate relationship with my health and my body overall. I love to fill my body full of shit that I love to eat and hate that my body gets fat when I do that. Like I said, love/hate. So, I recently had a big life event and I needed to get in shape, quickly... Because of course my other love/hate relationship (to tell the truth, love/hate pretty much defines ALL of my relationships, I am a fickle bitch) is with time. So of course procrastination is my middle name. Anyway, making this long post longer, let me just say that I decided to pick me up a little helper, you know an encourager, a motivator to get my two tons of fun back into shape. It was like a match made in heaven at first. Fitbit told me how many miles my fat ass would have to walk to lose the weight I wanted to and at first she was cool. Sending me smiley faces and badges and telling me how awesome I was at sleeping! She buzzed on my wrist whenever I hit my "goal" of 10,000 steps. Like a pretend little vibrator just for my wrist. It was like she was the long lost sister I never wanted. But then shit turned, she turned. As time went on, shit started getting real with this piece of technology. And of course, whenever something is judgmental, it must be female. If you don't agree, fuck you, you're probably a chick and you just proved my point. She would send me emails now with fucking sad faces telling me how "inactive" I had been during the week and what my "worst" day was. WTF bitch, you don't KNOW me like that. How do you know what my worst day is? Were you there? I mean you're on my wrist, but you weren't there. Then she tried to publicly shame me by telling me how many steps my friends were taking and what badges they were getting. It was like I wasn't good enough for her anymore. Now I wasn't getting enough hours of sleep or I wasn't active enough during her hand picked 9 hours of the day. Bitch, maybe I was taking pole dancing classes at night for exercise and couldn't get "active" during your favorite 9 hours of the day. That's not what happened, but it COULD have. (Funny story actually). So now I am starting to see the trend here with this chick. Praise at first to get me sucked in and wanting to please her and then just push me down for her amusement. I know the game. I know what you're thinking, Jennifer, it's not a real thing. It's an overrated watch that counts your fucking steps. And you'd be right, except for you're not. Shit was getting real and I needed to show Fitbit who was in charge. I didn't need her approval. I didn't need her badges anymore. "Badges, we don't need no stinking badges".... So, I showed her. I proceeded to gain back the 18 lbs I lost. And surely didn't need her help to do that! I showed her who was in charge. I was so inactive it was disgusting. I slept less than 5 hours a night because I was being so inactive. Yep, that was me putting Fitbit in her place. Eating what I wanted and not logging it into her stupid app. She still buzzed on my wrist, but only when someone was calling me. And I swear the other day I thought I saw "Fat Loser" go across the caller ID screen, but that couldn't be....Fitbit still loved me, didn't she? Didn't she want me to be healthy anymore? Didn't she want to help me give my friends the middle finger by walking more steps then they did, even if it was me walking laps around my kitchen? So now what? Well I am back to my fat weight and now I need my Fitbit. Help me Fitbit, help me. 
Fuck you though, don't judge me. 

Once and again....

Not a super sentimental type of human here, but there are some things that do bring it out in me. Anything to do with my kids can cause a warm and fuzzy moment and of course the love of my life. Sigh, it is true what they say, it is definitely different the second time around. The are so many reasons why. You're older, wiser, I think the second time you feel like it's an actual choice instead of anything else. I know for all of you one-timers, you just don't get it. How can you possibly ever consider loving anyone but the one you're with? Well, the answer isn't a simple or easy one, but suffice to say, things happen for a reason. I had always told people that after my divorce I would probably never get married again, and I believed it. I figured, tried it once, didn't go my way, move on. Kind of like what I imagine going to a Justin Bieber or Taylor Swift concert is like. You tried it because you heard all the hype and hoped for the best but in the end it cost too much, took too long and you really could have just passed altogether. But then, cliche, cliche, cliche and Mr Right and soulmate and blah blah blah. I took the plunge. I remarried (queue the horror movie scream). I actually despise that word "remarried". It implies that you did something again for the sake of doing it again. Retry, restart, reboot, etc. What I should have said was that I got married, again. Although really, I don't think my relationships need a qualifier. Like when I get pissed off at my friends and don't talk to them, I don't "refriend" them. I just say we're friends again. Anyhow, you get the point. I also didn't think that when I decided to get married it would be a big affair, but it was. Well, at least to us it was. Did we get to invite everyone we wanted to? Nope. Did we spend the "budgeted" amount (as my husband rolls on the floor in fake appendicitis like pain)? Nope. Did I absolutely love the wedding planning aspect? FUCK no! But would we do it all over again? Absolutely to the tenth power. I could write a whole other post on the drama that is a wedding, but that's not what this post is about. It's about doing something you thought wasn't for you, again. Having the fairy tale ending. I am happy to say that I did and I do! Most of the people that read my blog are friends and they do it because when I see the counter on my blog go up I feel important. For those of you that weren't there at the wedding to share the moment with us for whatever the reason (you RSVP'd but didn't show up, you weren't invited, or fuck, I just don't fucking know you) I am pasting my part of the vows at the end of this post. While vows are somewhat personal, I just wanted to share what this moment meant to me, regardless of whether it was my first time or 152nd time, this is the man I am going to spend the rest of my life with and this time I am 99% sure (LOL). Nobody does I do better than we do!


I decided to approach writing my vows like I would write one of my blogs. That is to say, with passion and humor. I mean, if we both didn't have a sense of humor, we wouldn't be standing up here now would we? I can't describe in words our journey. It's a simple story really, boy meets girl, girl overlooks the fact that boy is a Lakers fan.  It sounds corny and cliche, but an absolute truth. I don't know that I can say it was love at first sight, but I can say that when I realized what it was, the word Love didn't seem to do it justice. All of the ideas I had of love seemed to pale in comparison to what I was feeling and feel now.  Someone asked me how I knew it was the "real thing". And the only answer I could come up with was that I finally stopped looking. You know that feeling of constant searching for the next best thing, the next "one". It stopped when I met you. I couldn't remember the times before you or imagine a future without you in it. You make me feel like the sun rises above my head and the stars shine just for me. The best part is knowing that you will be the last thing I see before I go to bed and the first thing I see when I wake up. In traditional vows it references being together for better or worse and through good times and bad. To come through what we have and still have the energy and desire to be where we are is a testament to our feelings and commitment to each other. So more than anything what I'd like to say to you is that I, Jennifer Michele, take you Julio Alexander in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in championship and non-championship years until the very last day I take my very last breath on this planet, in this wonderful lifetime that I have been so very very fortunate to have found you in and shared my life with. You are my moon and my stars, the Jack to my Sally, and I  love you.