Black don't crack - this bitch is getting her sexy back...for serious this time.. Volume 57

Let's not sugar coat it. Black don't crack, we all know that. Sure my face will be as smooth as a baby's butt for the next 60 years, give or take a decade, which is great but I have been squandering that gift by not keeping up with my fitness.  In light of recent events (please see the last article I posted) I have been given a rude awakening. The article is about a black woman that is 34 and has been playing a 17 year old girl for about 17 years. According to my calculations I should be able to pass for 14, however lately I have been happy just to get carded.
I did what any sensible person would do having had this revelation. I went straight out and joined a gym this morning before work. All day I was thinking about how hard I was gonna' get on my grind. I was gonna' be on a diet water and light celery diet and 'get it in' in the gym about 4 hours a day. I was trucking right along until the car ride home. I was listening to some sweet R &B jams, and although no one will believe me I am pretty sure I heard R Kelly say
"My mind's telling me no, but my body...my body's telling me ye-es... it ain't nothing wrong, with a little taco bell, with a little taco bell"
Me - what?
Kelly ( I call him Kelly now) "it ain't nothing wrong, with a little taco bell"
me - *finger on ear piece* "with a little taco bell"

.............

I think we all know what happened next. *playing in the background " don't listen to, what people say, they don't know about this love"* I finished what I told myself was my last bad meal for quite some time and then began to prepare for my trip to the gym. The last time I legitimately cared about fitness was college so I thought to myself, let's break out the OU check list :

- OU hoodie, check
- super high bouncy pony tail, with skinny head band (still not sure what the purpose of this is), check
- mp3 player filled with filthy lil wayne jams, check
- unnecessarily short shorts with paw prints on the butt...we'll put a pin in this until further notice

Opening the door and stepping in was like stepping into a time machine. The place was filled with a lot of young men with tight glistening muscles and 2 girls. One girl is the girl who is always there that makes you feel secure with yourself, you give that girl the 'its me and you girl' look but in your head your like, ok....it could be worse - but then while you're busy being a terrible person you catch sight of the other girl in your peripheral...... That girl is wearing a tank top, with what I can only imagine are classified as bikini bottoms, full make up and prom hair....most offensively, she is in shape. How do I have roid rage without the roids??? I digress... I decided I was going to run for an hour straight, if the people on Extreme Weight loss Makeover can do it, then I can do it, right? 15 minutes into it I started having thoughts like, who said you can't crawl on a treadmill? As I looked down after a while to see if my feet were still moving, because I could no longer feel my lower extremities, I saw a red tab with a string on it plugged into the machine. The instructions were to pull it if you feel light-headed or sick in anyway. For a moment I forgot where I was and I laughed and said audibly " where's the 'pull this tab if your out of goddamn shape option'?"..... I heard the man next to me chuckle and I knew I was among friends. Pony boy stayed gold and I made it through the hour... I might even go back one day too.....

Dating Games or Hunger Games?

Remeber that skit from SNL about ten years ago with Will Ferrell, Anna Gastyer and Sara Michell Gellar where they are a family  eating dinner and their dinner just disolves into noises of silverware loudly hitting the plate and random yelling with Will ending it by screaming things like "I am an assistant manager!", "I drive a Dodge Stratus!"  . That's basically where you hope you can work your way up to during a 15 hour car ride with another person. Now don't get me wrong, there are some non-damning highlights. We saw Niagara Falls for my first time, spectacular. At one point when I was bumpin' some Ricky Rosae he sat straight up out of a dead sleep and said "Huh? What? God forgives and I don't! " then went directly back to sleep.
But the rest of it is basically issues that would normally be able to be easily resolved turning into near impossible missions. We are tired, just go to sleep right? Not an option. We are hungry, just eat a hearty meal right? "Super glad we ate straight garbage from a reststop and are trapped in a car together for several hours! " said no one ever.
It gets to the point where you just lose your mind. This starts to become your inner thought "if I hear backseat driving one more f***** time I swear to God," "maybe I can just give him a peanut butter and benedryl sandwich and drop him off at the next rest stop , tape our home address to his shirt and keep it moving. Nope, still 9 more goddamn hours of driving, what is this, the Never Ending Story?"
You look at yourself in the mirror and say "come on Katniss, think ! There has to be a way for us to both get out of here alive! ", then this conversation happens:
Him:"Oh look, its Kennebunkport!"
Me: "Um, ok???"
Him: "you don't know what Kennebunkport is? Are you a f*cking American?!?!"
Me: a lot of blinking
Him: "the president vacations here ! Steven King lives here!"
Me: pulling out phone
Him: "Are you blogging this???? Are you?"

......silence. ....

Me : "I drive a Dodge Stratus!"